


Mutual Misunderstandings

by Ayama_chi



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-08 19:43:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 89,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayama_chi/pseuds/Ayama_chi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How high a price are you willing to pay to get your hands on everything Atlantis could have ever hoped for? A slip of a tongue during an off world visit and some help from Rodney and John and his second in command are about to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank the wonderful beta Enedre who delt with this huge mass of words twice (!) and is still alive to tell it...

“That Sparrow guy was cool, but I hated the woman,” Ronon said while effortlessly snapping the Banto rods at John and nearly getting to him. John looked at him carefully as he stepped back and tried to form some sort of an attack. Ronon had a habbit of surprising his opponent, and he never stopped the session even if his training partner was otherwise distracted. 

“You hated Keira Knightley? She’s hot, how could you hate her?” John asked incredulously, doing his best to jab forward but earning himself a slap on the ass from Ronon’s rods. He jumped forward, his backside stinging, and shot a resentful look at his sparring partner.

Ronon didn’t even break a sweat. “She was annoying,” he said shortly, shrugging. The DVD set of the three _Pirates of the Caribbean_ movies had arrived in Atlantis and John dragged Ronon to the public screening last night. Ronon, of course, was immediately hooked. John had to explain to him that there were hardly any real pirates left on Earth, and those that do exist are nowhere near Johnny Depp’s style or mannerism and most importantly – don’t parlay.

Ronon moved forward, teasing John with his rods in short bursts to his face and groin, which John did his best to counteract. He ended up receiving another sharp slap to his ass, and had to stop in order to rub some of the pain away.

“You know, if you keep this up I won’t be able to sit,” he muttered sullenly at Ronon. Ronon simply looked amused as he threw John his towel and took a sip of water from John’s bottle.

“If you’d have kept training, I wouldn’t have been able to do that,” he retorted easily, placing the rods back into the barrel. John was only grateful that they were practicing in the officers’ gym, which meant that no one witnessed Ronon wiping the floor with him, even though it wasn’t the best kept secret around the city.

“Well,” John ignored Ronon’s comment, even though it was completely true, “They’ll be screening the second DVD in two hours so maybe we should…” but then the Ancient door opened with a unique hydraulic sound and Rodney came running inside.

“You’re never going to believe this!” he said excitedly, a fine sheen of perspiration betraying the fact that he had actually run from the transporter to the gym. “We’ve established a connection with M1M-995! You’ve got to come and see it!” he said, his eyes bright and expectant.

John exchanged a look with Ronon. “Okay, you’ve got us interested,” John said finally, when no explanation was forthcoming. “Which one is M1M-995 and what’s so special about it?”

Rodney looked crestfallen. It was obvious that this was not the reaction he expected to receive. John had probably asked the wrong question, but he had no idea what Rodney expected him to say.

“It was one of the five planets on Elizabeth’s list!” Rodney said, sounding amazed that John didn’t know such a trivial thing.

Something in John twisted, just like it always did when someone mentioned Elizabeth. His mind flashed to the image of her as he had last seen her, a clone willing to sacrifice her life to save him. And now, the Replicator claiming to be her was floating in space, forever frozen, like Niam was when they recovered him two years ago.

“Elizabeth’s list?” John asked, to distract himself from the unpleasant thoughts. “Which list?”

Now Rodney got impatient. “The list she gave us when we woke her from stasis. The old Elizabeth!” Rodney huffed. “The list of planets with ZedPMs,” but Rodney’s exuberance got the better of him and he was nearly sing-songing that last one.

That was when John remembered. The Elizabeth of the alternate timeline, who slept for ten thousand years in order to get to them and deliver her message. 

“What?” Ronon asked, and both John and Rodney turned to look at him. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Ronon hadn’t always been there with them.

“When we got to the city from Earth for the first time, it rose from the ocean when the last ZPM was depleted. It was a fail-safe mechanism. A few months after that we found an old woman whose DNA matched Elizabeth’s and who was Elizabeth of an alternate timeline, where the city didn’t rise and all of us were killed. She managed to escape the flooding by boarding a Jumper equipped with a time machine. She went back in time and alerted the Ancients, and they built the fail-safe mechanism and that’s why we’re still here,” John explained shortly.

“She also gave us a list of planets where we could find other ZedPMs,” Rodney chimed in, smiling happily.

“Which were supposed to have been explored by the Deadalus,” John reminded him. They had been able to get a lock on only two of the planets from Atlantis: M7G-677, the kids’ planet, and Dagan, where the ZPM was taken from them after they solved the puzzle that led to it and nearly got killed by Kolya.

“And they were. We sent the Deadalus to the first one and discovered that it had turned into a red giant and the heat nearly burned the Deadalus up, and we stopped when the second one turned out to be a black hole that nearly destroyed the Deadalus as well. Coincidently, it was the same black hole that prevented the Ori’s supergate from working,” Rodney replied.

“Well, we had only one more to go, why didn’t we check it out?” John asked, irritated. The things they could have done with a fully charged ZPM in the last few years were numerous, and it annoyed him that one might have been lying under their noses the whole time.

“Because it was probably dead or destroyed as well, and we didn’t want to risk the Deadalus again. Look, things have changed in the last ten thousand years, in case it had escaped your notice,” Rodney snapped, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly.

John didn’t actually blame him. There was usually a good reason why they couldn’t get a lock on certain addresses and risking the Deadalus on a trip to what could be another black hole was reckless at best. But it was still fun to bait Rodney.

“If it was supposed to have been destroyed, how come you dialed it?” Ronon asked from John’s side.

“Oh. Um… actually that was a fluke,” Rodney’s hands dropped down from his chest and he wrung them together. “Radek and I were trying to shut down some of the automated protocols of the city’s navigation systems just when Chuck was dialing Major Kersey’s team off-world but there was a jump because of us and he… uh… dialed M1M-995 instead,” Rodney said, a little uneasily but with no apparent guilt.

John was impressed. They had a chance to find another ZPM and even though they already had one that was perfectly fine, another one was always welcome. Who knows when they’d have to take off into space again while maintaining the shield, or boost the Deadalus’ shields, or one of a hundred possible doomsday scenarios?

“Did you talk to Woolsey?” John asked Rodney.

“Yes. He says that as soon as we’re all ready we can send a MALP and go through,” Rodney was practically dancing with excitement, like a little kid, and John fought the urge to smile.

John exchanged another look with Ronon, who shrugged. There was a simple truth in Rodney’s statement. ZPMs were good. “Okay. Let’s go and get ready. And if you tell anyone else on that planet something you shouldn’t again, I’ll shot you,” John warned, remembering Dagan, and left Rodney staring after him in shock.

~o~o~o~o~

Getting ready took longer than usual, mainly because Rodney was practically dancing with anticipation and kept interrupting John as he tried to check if he had everything he needed in his MOLLE vest pockets.

However, when they arrived in the control tower Woolsey was still in his office and was talking to someone. John came in, intending on letting Woolsey know that the MALP was ready and awaiting his order, and discovered that that someone was Major Lorne.

The Major turned to look at John when he entered and smiled. Woolsey nodded, and got up from his chair. “Major, do you want to come with us? I think that this particular dialing-up is bound to be exciting,” Woolsey invited Lorne, who stood up when Woolsey did.

Lorne nodded first at Woolsey and then at John. “I’d love that, Mr. Woolsey,” he replied cordially. John simply shrugged indifferently at him when the Major’s eyes turned to him for permission. It wasn’t against the law to watch a team embark, and considering that they might find another ZPM… John couldn’t blame anyone who wanted to watch.

Woolsey led the way to the operations room where Rodney, Ronon and Teyla were waiting, followed by John and trailed respectfully by Lorne. Woolsey came to stand by Amelia’s shoulder and nodded to her when she looked up expectantly.

“Dial the gate, Amelia,” Woolsey gave the command calmly, and they all watched the chevrons circle before settling into place. It seemed to John that the entire room held its breath from the time the sixth chevron was engaged until the seventh chevron was locked.

The gate engaged with the usual burst of the event horizon before it rippled back into place to create the illusion of a shimmering pool. It never got old, and at that moment it was prettier than ever.

“Yeah!” someone was yelling in the background, and Rodney was already sitting by Amelia’s unoccupied side and interfering with her actions the best he could until she gave up and handed the control of the MALP to him.

“Send it through, Doctor,” Woolsey said, amused, and John watched with no small amount of anticipation himself as the MALP disappeared into the wormhole.

“We’ll have a visual in four, three, two, one, and…” Rodney counted, and the image became clear on his computer screen.

The first thing that they saw was a small room, lit only by artificial lights hanging on ropes around the walls. It was crowded with various tools and instruments that were scattered on the floor or lying in neat piles in the corners. The rough stone and uneven shape of the structure’s walls could have been a cave’s if it wasn’t too neat and the carvings that created the walls too new. Just beyond the small opening they could see a hint of green trees and sunshine.

“I think we can safely assume that the gate was buried, rather than destroyed by some catastrophe like the other two?” Woolsey inquired, looking at Rodney for an answer.

“Yes, yes,” Rodney said absently, engrossed in the information the computer was feeding him. “Yes. It was probably buried, because this planet’s atmosphere is breathable and the MALP can’t detect any remaining residue from any natural disaster or otherwise, nor toxins or bio-hazards,” he added.

“Yes, that would explain the tools on the floor,” John injected sarcastically, smiling when Rodney turned to glare at him. “I mean, someone must have put them there, right?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Panning the camera,” Rodney said pointedly, ignoring him, and the view changed until it settled on a group of frightened and curious faces.

“Stop it right there!” Woolsey said needlessly, looking almost as surprised to see the people on the other side as they were to see the MALP. “It’s inhabited,” he added, with both wonderment and quiet excitement.

“Yes, kind of reminds me of the Milky Way though,” Lorne said from behind John, and John was almost startled by him. He had forgotten that Lorne was there.

“What does that mean?” Woolsey asked. John turned to him as well, waiting.

“It looks exactly like the pictures from MALPs the SGC sent to planets where the Stargate hasn’t been used in generations. I think they just dug it out and they have no idea what it’s for,” Lorne supplied, indicating the tools and the curious people.

“Think they ever heard of the Wraith?” John asked Woolsey. He had never met anyone who didn’t know what the Stargate was other than the people of Proculus, and that was weird enough.

“It’s possible that they have, and it’s possible that they haven’t. This planet is on the other side of the galaxy. The Wraith may never have reached there, or may not have many Hives in the area. There’s no way of knowing,” Rodney answered instead, looking up at them before panning the camera more.

All they saw was more astonished people and more stone walls.

“Very well,” Woolsey said, looking around the control room. “You have a go, Colonel. If there’s a ZPM on that planet, it would be highly advisable that you bring it back with you,” he said, and John smiled shortly and nodded to him as he turned to go, eager and curious to find out what was on the other side. Even if these people had never seen the Stargate being activated before, the prospect of finding a planet that may never have been visited by the Wraith and might host a ZPM was enough to make the adrenalin flood his body.

“However,” Woolsey’s voice stopped him from going further than two steps down towards the gate. “I want to remind you to do it in a diplomatic way. Even if these people have never been through the Stargate before there’s no telling what resources the Coalition of planets have and whether or not they’ll learn about our current adventure. We don’t need an interplanetary diplomatic incident. Not this soon after getting your team back,” Woolsey clarified. “Is that understood, Colonel?”

John grimaced, just like he always did when someone mentioned that damn Coalition. He had no particular fondness for any of them, and he hated politics almost as much as Woolsey loved it. It has been less than a month since they were captured by the Coalition and put on trial, and whenever a representative of the Coalition was in the city since then John has managed to arrange for himself to be somewhere very far away, preferably off-world.

“Colonel?”

“Yes, I got it. No stealing from the natives,” John repeated dutifully, a sour taste in his mouth.

“Very well. Good luck, Colonel, and good hunting,” Woolsey smiled, and John and Rodney turned back and joined Ronon and Teyla down the stairs.

Just before John went through the gate, he looked backwards. Every person in the control tower was watching them, even Woolsey, Lorne and Amelia.

With one final nod and a deep breath, John stepped through.

They reached the other side seconds later, just when a new group of people came into the cave through the entrance, making it even more crowded than before. For a moment John thought that they were guards that had came to arrest them and placed his finger on the trigger of his P-90, but then he noticed that none of them were armed.

Lorne was right. It looked like an excavation. These people must have only recently dug out their Stargate, and obviously were not used to seeing it activated. The faces around them, illuminated both by the strong white light of the wormhole and by the wane artificial lights hanging around the walls, looked just as curious as they were scared. They were wearing dirty clothes, but it wrapped their bodies completely and they didn’t look like slaves. More like… archeologists.

The new group of people who entered the cave just as the gate shut down behind John and his team were wearing similar clothes to the first group, though they were not as dirty as the archeologists who were clustered around the gate and the MALP.

One of the newcomers stepped forward, staring with wondering green eyes at them. He was wearing robes much like those of a British judge, only colored dark blue and cream, with the same diagonal stripe tucked into the cream-colored belt and the same cream-colored stripes around the end of the sleeves. It was obvious that he was an official representative of something.

“So it’s true. This is indeed a transportation device as the legend says,” he said cautiously, bowing his head respectfully at them. He had narrow features, brown hair and appeared to be kind. But John had learned early on that appearances can be deceiving. 

“It is,” John confirmed, carefully stepping forward as well.

“As evident from our being here,” Rodney muttered quietly, and John shot him a glare to keep him quiet. It was Rodney’s big mouth that lost them the Dagan’s ZPM.

“Greetings,” Teyla stepped forward as well, smiling calmly. “We come from the city of Atlantis and we mean you no harm,” she said. “I am Teyla Emmagen, and these are Ronon Dex, Doctor Rodney McKay and our leader Colonel John Sheppard,” she made the proper introductions, gesturing at each of the team in turn.

The official stepped forward, smiling and looking less tense than before. “I am Noman, currently charged with seeing to the cultural and historical interests of our people,” he bowed before them. “We have always known the legend of the city of the ancestors, but we have never even imagined that it might be true!” he said, his excitement pouring from him as he looked around at his people. “Welcome to Olam!”

The people around him clapped their hands and cheered at his exclamation, and it was like the ice had broken. The oppressive feeling of discomfort and fear disappeared from the air and everywhere they looked they saw smiling faces.

“Come, let us walk in the sun,” Noman offered, gesturing with his hand for them to lead the way out. John smiled at him as he took point, but still raised his gun a little and his finger never strayed from its position on the trigger. They might have been welcomed warmly here, but John didn’t want to take any chances.

Outside there were no hostiles. Instead there was yellow sun, evergreens and many tan colored tents. Some of the tents were merely fabrics stretched over poles, and underneath those yet more archeologists were examining various artifacts. They all looked up when John and his team came out of what appeared to be a small hill.

Noman came after them and directed them to a set of chairs. “Please, have a seat,” he offered kindly, and Teyla and John smiled. Rodney sat almost as if he had been on his feet nonstop for the last two days but Ronon preferred to remain standing and loomed over them all. After shooting a quick glance at Ronon, Noman proceeded. “As I was saying, welcome to Olam,” he greeted again.

“It’s a nice place. Kind of reminds me of Canada,” Rodney said as he started fiddling with some sort of a gadget that detected energy signatures, obviously eager to make friends with Noman as fast as they could so that they could get to the ZPM sooner.

“Canada?” Noman asked, confused, and John wanted to groan.

“Oh. Um… it’s a place I’ve been to once,” Rodney said quickly, smiling nervously at Noman and not making a very good first impression.

“What he means to say is that your world – what we’ve seen of it so far – is very nice,” John said sharply, kicking Rodney in the shin. Rodney grimaced but made no sound.

“I thank you,” Noman was almost glowing at the praise. “We love it very much,” he added politely. It was obvious that he was waiting for them to state the reason why they were there, and both Rodney and Teyla turned to John expectantly. John took a deep breath, well aware that their getting the ZPM, if it existed, may hang on his words now.

“We’re here to search for something that-” and then he was stuck. Should he say that they were the Ancients and lie? Should he say that they were their second evolution (which was true but how could he explain it accurately)? “-we know can help us a great deal in fighting the Wraith,” he said, settling for a different side of the truth.

Noman’s brow crinkled in confusion. “The Wraith, you say? Who are they?” he asked, and John could see the honesty of the question in his eyes.

John exchanged a look with Teyla and Rodney. These people didn’t look like Ancients, nor like they were protected by one like in Proculus. There was no real reason for them not to know who the Wraith were. It took John back to his first meeting with Teyla, when she told him that if his world was untouched by the Wraith then he should go back there. It was a galaxy-wide known truth.

“The Wraith are a formidable race that harvest people like beasts of burden and feed on their life force. They are very intelligent, very advanced and are feared throughout the galaxy,” Teyla explained, a note in her voice telling John that she both envied these people and found them strange.

Noman was quiet after hearing that, the breeze gently ruffling his wide sleeves. He looked at some of the workers who were still staring at them with unmasked curiosity before he turned back to John’s team. He exhaled and spread his hands wide in a gesture of disbelief.

“I do not know what is more astounding. The fact that we, as the legends have told, are not alone in the universe, or that the evil beings that were portrayed in our legends are real,” he said finally, and John had to smile. He could well relate. That was how he had felt when General O’Neill told him about the Stargate, the Goa’uld and the hundreds of populated planets on the Milky Way filled with people who had originated from Earth.

“They’re real,” Ronon said, speaking for the first time since their arrival, and Noman looked at him with a spark of amusement in his eyes.

“You speak?” he asked, teasing hesitantly. Ronon simply shrugged, while John tried to suppress a smile. Then Noman’s face clouded over once more. “Are these beings a threat to us?” he asked, addressing John.

“They’re a threat to all human beings. We’re their food,” John said simply, which was entirely true. The fact that they hadn’t come in ships to Olam was another mystery. John hoped that it wasn’t because of a device like that on M7G-677, because that would mean that it was powered by a ZPM and then they couldn’t have it for themselves.

“We certainly haven’t seen them here in as many generations as my people can remember. In fact, the date of the legends regarding them is around the time of the Cataclysm,” Noman replied.

“What is this Cataclysm you’re talking about?” Rodney asked, raising his head for the first time from his instrument. From what John remembered about this energy patterns detector, it took some calibration before it could be used, which was probably what Rodney had been doing while they were chit-chatting. It would explain the lack of sarcastic comments and impatient huffs.

“The Cataclysm is the event that nearly wiped out our civilization. It happened so many generations ago that it was a legend as well before this excavation began. It was told that during the Cataclysm the ground shook with unimaginable force and the mountains spat fire and covered all living things with the boiling essence of the earth. It was said that this event had claimed the lives of most of our people, and had destroyed all their property, knowledge, history and culture,” Noman retold, and then gestured at the hill behind them where the Stargate was found.

“Until recently this story was considered a legend as well, but then we started excavating this area and found the Ring of the Ancestors and many more various artifacts that appeared to be encased in rock. Our scientists are studying it as we speak,” he concluded, and showed them a piece of tablet with unintelligible markings that was covered with volcanic rock that one of the workers hastened to hand to him.

“Just like Pompeii, a volcanic eruption that buried an entire city with lava. When the lava turned cold there were only human-shaped statues where real humans once stood. Amazing!” Rodney said excitedly. John shot him a warning look, which was wasted since Rodney was looking around them and not at John. While it was cool to know that there was a Pompeii in the Pegasus galaxy as well, he doubted that getting excited about an event that nearly wiped out the entire civilization of the people who might hold a ZPM was the smartest thing to do.

Noman, however, appeared to be taking this in stride. “I gather you’re familiar with the phenomenon?” he asked, and John thought he might even be amused.

“Yes, it happened on our planet as well. But more importantly, this could explain why we couldn’t make contact with this planet until you dug out your gate. It was covered in rock! I mean, you’re lucky that it wasn’t destroyed!” Rodney said, turning to John and gesturing with his hand at the hill behind them. His face then changed when some horrific realization came to him, and it took John only a second longer to figure it out as well.

It was pure luck that the gate wasn’t destroyed, but what about the ZPM?

“You have tried to contact our planet before?” Noman asked, interrupting the silent conversation that passed between John and Rodney.

“Yes, we did. We believe that there’s a device on your planet that might help us defeat the Wraith, as we’ve said,” Teyla replied. “What is the matter?” she asked when Noman looked uneasy.

Noman sighed, his look turning sharper than before. “You must understand that until a few weeks ago we believed that the Cataclysm and the legends that were tied to its era were children’s tales. The only reason I believe what you’re saying is that you and your machine have stepped through the Ring and that our excavations support the legends. I find it hard to grasp that there is an enemy out there whose reason for being is to destroy us, even if I know that it is probably so, and even harder to think that somewhere on Olam there’s a weapon that might help you to defeat it,” Noman said candidly, looking at the skies as if expecting the Wraith to drop by for a visit as well.

“The Wraith are real, and they terrorize many worlds in this galaxy. They may not have been here in a very long time, but that could change any day. In the mean time, many worlds are suffering at their hands. Villages are being destroyed, civilizations wiped out and people separated from their loved ones. You must believe that they are real and that there is a chance that on your world we might find a device to help us fight them,” Teyla said seriously, with an intensity that she used only when she talked about something that she believed in whole-heartedly.

Noman looked at her with a measuring eye, but whatever it was that he was thinking he did not share. “And how were you hoping to find the device?” he asked instead, mildly.

Rodney raised his detector. “This allows me to detect all sorts of energy readings, and if I can just…” he trailed off, pressing a few buttons and turning the small dial in the middle of the black rectangle. “There. Now we can start sc-” he began, and was cut short when the device beeped at him.

John looked at Rodney, suddenly tense. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

Rodney’s eyes were practically gleaming, and a smug smile was blooming on his face. “I have a reading!” he exclaimed, and without waiting for the others rose up and started walking away.

John turned to Noman, who looked once again more amused than enraged, and raised his eyebrows in question. Noman rose gracefully and smiled in response. “By all means, let’s go after your friend, Colonel. He seemed very eager, and I must say I’m intrigued myself,” he said, gesturing with his hand.

John led the way after Rodney’s retreating form, and just knew that Ronon was smiling behind him. He liked Noman, and so did John. Given what he had just learned, he was either dealing with the truth admirably well or was planning on killing them once they led him to the ZPM, but somehow John found the latter harder to believe. Nevertheless, a quick glance towards Teyla and Ronon showed that they were still on their guard as well.

Now all that was left was to find the ZPM, hope that is wasn’t already being used and hope that Noman’s people would allow them to take it back with them. John could see so many things going wrong, and he hastened his pace to reach Rodney and get it over with as soon as possible.

They didn’t have to walk for long, and the view never changed from the rocky terrain and the evergreens. Once they were a little further away from the gate they could see that they were located in the middle of a mountain range, consisting mainly of trees and long stone stretches. A little further down in the camp they could see a strange structure made out of wood that looked like a covered bridge.

They caught Rodney by a large tan colored stone wall that towered well above his head, moving his detector up and down and frowning to himself. “This might take longer than we expected. I’m getting the reading from behind this rock, but probably during the Cataclysm the place where the ZedPM was being kept was covered with lava. We’ll have to dig it out but there’s definitely something there,” he told John when the rest of the team caught up with him.

Noman looked at Rodney’s detector, that was now emitting a constant thin and annoying beeping sound, and then at the wall. “My people would be happy to help,” he offered. “I think that my people will be easier to convince of the truth in your story once the evidence is in front of their eyes,” he added when John turned and looked at him with surprise. Somewhere in all the time John had been dealing with the Pegasus galaxy he had forgotten that there might also be good and helpful people out there.

John approached the wall. It certainly didn’t look like basalt, but it could have been simply a rock slide that blocked the entrance to whatever it was that protected the ZPM. Geologic activity takes a lot of time to make a change, but it had had ten thousand years to turn a rock slide into this wall. And if Rodney’s detector was picking up the energy signature, then despite all that the ZPM must still be there.

John walked a few feet along the big stone wall trying to see if there were any loose rocks or an opening in it, but it looked like it was a part of what appeared to be a very large precipice. The work would probably go faster if they brought in their own equipment, because so far Olam didn’t seem like an overly advanced world.

“It looks like it will take some work,” John commented, placing his hand on the wall for emphasis…

…and nearly falling forward when the wall disappeared under his hand and his support was gone. The startled breath he drew in had the foul smell of stale air to it and he was forced to cough it out. 

“This isn’t dangerous, right?” John wheezed, remembering a different wall he had fallen through. He had no desire to get stuck in some pansy ascension cult again, or worse.

“I don’t think so,” Rodney said weakly, staring in awe at the place where the wall was a second ago as he walked through after John. “I think it was a hologram meant to preserve what was inside, not trap people in.”

Looking around, John saw what looked like an Ancient chamber, combined with the lights that came on by themselves and the geometric patterns in brown and green. Now that he was over his own shock and reasonably sure that it wasn’t dangerous, he was smug at having saved them a lot of work, and turned to Rodney to savor his friend’s envious look. Teyla looked as surprised as Rodney did, her mouth actually opening slightly and her breath quickening, and Ronon had instinctively pulled out his gun. Noman was gaping at John openly.

 “This is just like Janus’ lab, only this one simply required your gene to be activated!” Rodney exclaimed excitedly, forgetting his resentment at John’s natural ease with Ancient technology in the face of their newest discovery.

“The Ancients must’ve put some sort of shield up to protect this outpost from natural disasters,” John mused, which would explain why the entrance wasn’t blocked.

“So are we going to go in or what?” Ronon asked, not lowering his gun.

“Uh… Sure, just…” Rodney started to mutter, looking down at his detector again. His brow creased. “Wait a minute, this can’t be right,” he said, annoyed, and started fiddling with the detector.

“What is it?” John asked, coming closer to look over Rodney’s shoulder. It told him nothing, of course, but it got Rodney’s attention from his dark mutterings about lousy equipment.

Rodney looked at John and showed him the device as if John couldn’t have seen it before. “The detector is malfunctioning,” he complained. “These readings can’t possibly be right, they’re practically off the scale.”

“Well, we could try going in and finding out,” John suggested sarcastically, and Rodney shot him an annoyed glare before gesturing resignedly with his hand for him to take the lead.

John signaled Ronon and they both went in first, aiming their guns and checking every corner and every shadow for threats. It had crossed John’s mind that the place was sealed off until they got there, but then again, until recently there were the Replicators who could have had access to this place and who could plant tiny tubes with killing nanites, so he didn’t think that his caution was over the top. And there were, of course, those rough Asgards who proved to be capable of penetrating Ancient shields and who didn’t have the best intentions either. No, his caution was definitely within reason.

The small room turned out to be a hallway that led to a larger chamber. As John stepped forward and passed the threshold the lights burst into life and he was left speechless.


	2. Chapter 2

“So what did…” Rodney’s question died on his lips as he, too, took in what was inside the chamber.

Stacked neatly in rows upon rows, like bookshelves in a library, were dozens of cases of drones, stretching across the entire length of the room. The holding units, built like hives with hexagons to host the inactive drones, were all completely full. There were no drones missing in any of the seen units, and all the drones looked slick and brand new even though they were over ten thousand years old.

On the right wall was a sort of white stripe of some kind of a metal on which personal shields were neatly hung, rows and rows of them from one end of the chamber to the other. Just below them were Lantean personal weapons, held in a special device that kept them upright. They were exactly like those John had seen on the Aurora, and the quantity of them was dazzling.

And by the left wall were…

“Three ZedPMs,” Rodney whispered in awe, approaching the stand slowly, almost like he was hypnotized. And indeed, inside a stand made out of the same hexagons that held the drones, were three ZPMs glowing bright with the kind of strong and steady light that indicated that they were fully charged.

Even Teyla and Ronon came to stare at the precious devices in silent awe. They were all so shocked at their discovery that they forgot that Noman was there with them.

“I see that you’ve found what you were looking for?” Noman asked gently, snapping them all out of their trance-like state.

Rodney and John turned to look at him, and John nodded. “Oh, I’d say we definitely found it. We just never expected to find so many of it,” he said, gesturing at the chamber with his chin before turning back to look at all those Ancient weapons once more. 

“We have to count them,” Rodney said suddenly, taking out a notepad and a pen. “And we can start with _three ZedPMs_,” he added gleefully. “How about Teyla count the personal shields, Ronon the Lantean personal weapons and Sheppard, you and I will count the drones?” he said, and without waiting for a response started counting the rows of the drone holding units.

John counted as well. There were twenty horizontal rows on six vertical, which meant that every holding unit hosted one hundred and twenty individual drones. And after a quick count it turned out that there were fifty units, which added up to…

“Six thousand drones,” Rodney said hoarsely. John noticed the quivering in his hand as he wrote that number down, but couldn’t bring himself to tease him about it. For starters, the only thing that currently filled his mind was the number six thousand, and secondly, his own stomach was lodged somewhere in his throat and he didn’t think he could produce any sound at the moment.

Rodney looked up at John with solemn eyes. “John, we’ve got to convince them to let us have it all,” he said, using John’s first name in his excitement. “I can’t even begin to tell you the number of uses we could put three ZedPMs and six thousand drones to, but there’s a lot. _We’ve got to get them to let us take it_,” he stressed again.

“And how am I supposed to do that, Rodney? It’s not like its just one ZPM that we can take with us in a bag or something!” John hissed back at him, knowing just how poorly adapted he was for this task. The people of Olam had no reason to hand over all these weapons to them, and he sucked at diplomacy. Woolsey should have been there instead of him.

“No, this isn’t just one ZedPM, this is an entire armory of Ancient weapons and there is nothing stopping us from taking it all other than the natives’ permission. Talk to them, promise them help or medicines or ships, hell, promise them the moon! We need those three ZedPMs, John,” Rodney’s hand grabbed John’s arm and he squeezed in emphasis.

Teyla and Ronon, accompanied by Noman, appeared next to them before Rodney had a chance to say something more. “With Noman’s help we have counted five hundred personal shields, Rodney,” Teyla said, smiling graciously at Noman, who smiled back kindly.

“And seven hundred personal weapons,” Ronon added, and John felt his head spinning. They could give every member of the expedition a personal shield and a weapon and still have some to spare.

“I gather that you’re interested in taking all of it home, Colonel?” Noman asked, his face deceptively calm.

John turned to look at him, wary. Noman might be a nice person, but if he was some sort of minister then he wasn’t stupid. At least, not stupid enough to allow total strangers to take an arsenal of weapons with no idea what they were going to do with them.

“Yes, we would. I’d be happy to talk to you about what you would like in return for these,” he said, carefully, watching Noman’s reaction.

But Noman simply smiled. “Let us go outside. If we linger too long others may come looking for us. It might also be advisable to lock this room again. Using your unique ability, of course,” he said, looking at John for his approval. Hesitantly, John nodded. The ball was in Noman’s court and they both knew it.

They made their way out (Ronon had to drag Rodney from veering towards the ZPMs) and blinked in the sun for a minute before adjusting to the natural light once more. John put his hand up where the wall was supposed to be and thought it closed, and the wall reappeared under his hand with startling ease.

He expected to be taken back to where they had sat before, or maybe even to meet with whatever passed as a government on this planet. Instead, Noman led them a few feet away from the Ancient chamber to where a group of rocks rose from the ground and sat on one, clearly waiting for them to do the same.

John sat down next to him and watched the excavation site when Noman turned to watch it as well. The workers resumed their activity there, some standing under the shadings and cataloguing artifacts and some coming and going from the small cave where the Stargate stood.

John had no idea what to say, or how to say it, so he opted for the truth. “Look. It’s obvious that there’s nothing your people can use any of those things for. If I wasn’t here to open it for you, you would never have known that there was something behind the stone wall,” John started.

“You might be right and you might not be right, Colonel. Even if I’m inclined to agree with you I can’t determine anything without further information. For starters, I would very much like to know how you did what you just did,” Noman replied with the same deceptive calm from before. John had a feeling that he was playing a game that he didn’t know the rules of, and it put him on edge.

“I have a gene that allows me to operate Ancient… uh, Ancestral technology. Most of the things they built were designed to be operated by people who have this particular gene,” John began, but saw that Noman didn’t understand him.

“A… ‘gene’?”

“There are different genes in the human body, like the gene for green eyes and brown hair and big hands and such. These genes determine our physical traits,” John tried to explain, and was relieved when Noman’s face was flooded with understanding.

“Yes, we are familiar with the concept, even if we have a different term for it. We have only recently made those significant leaps in our medicine and science,” Noman confirmed. From the back Rodney muttered something about how this placed Olam somewhere near the level of development of Earth around 1900, maybe even less, before Ronon shut him up, but John hurried to jump at the opportunity.

“That’s great. We can help you there, we discovered DNA a long time ago and we can even manipulate it and map it. Not to mention many more other medical and scientific advancements that we’ve made that we’d be willing to share, including,” he offered temptingly, “gate technology. We’d be happy to provide you with the knowledge of how to operate the Stargate and a list of planets that are safe and friendly.”

John thought it was a good proposal. Clearly these people have been cut off from the gate network for generations and thus hadn’t heard of Atlantis’ reputation, but they were about to earn a very powerful friend. A sneaked look at Rodney, Ronon and Teyla showed their approval and he turned back to Noman, smiling victoriously. 

Noman, however, smiled a small and private smile and returned to observing the archeologists at the site. “I’m sure you are, Colonel. However I’m not sure that _my people_ are ready for so many new discoveries at once. We have a number of revolutionary ideas circling around, one of them being the confirmation of the Cataclysm and the legends surrounding it, and more information will simply cause unnecessary confusion.”

John watched, confused and dismayed at being rejected, as Noman touched the diagonal stripe that crossed his chest absently before turning back to look at him. “We are only now entering the era of discoveries. Until now, and even now, we consider ourselves as inventors and artists. The minds of Olam’s inventors are fertile with ideas, and the imagination of Olam’s painters is wild. As a matter of fact, regardless of whether we are alone in the universe or not, I’m sure that Olam’s artists are the best in this galaxy,” Noman said with unveiled pride.

John grinned back at him, then turned to look at Teyla who sat on his other side on the rock. “I’m sure Lorne would be overjoyed coming here,” he commented, and she smiled back.

Noman’s brow creased. “Does this Lorne have a special appreciation for art?” he asked, curious, and John tried a different approach. Maybe some cultural knowledge would tempt these people more. 

“Oh yeah, he likes art very much. He even paints. I’m sure he would be happy to come here and show you some of _our_ works of art, if that’s what your people appreciate,” John said enthusiastically, but inside he was uneasy. These people, with their preference for art and culture over medicine and science, reminded him of Proculus and nothing good came out of there.

“We would be happy to host him here. Who is he?” Noman replied warmly, very much interested now. John suddenly remembered that he was talking with the equivalent of the minister of culture and history. Of course he would be happy.

“He’s my second, and we have centuries of art that he can show you,” John answered, and moved on to something that wasn’t as revolutionary as manipulating DNA. “We can also give you cures for different illnesses. Flu, some types of Cancer, Hepatitis… uh…” John fumbled for something to say that would not involve art and culture about which he had no idea, and was aware that Hepatitis and Cancer meant nothing to Noman.

“We have found a procedure that can save the lives of those infected with the Second Childhood,” Teyla came to his aid, and John sent her a grateful look. “We can offer and even teach you…” Teyla trailed off, her brow creasing as she looked at Noman.

As John turned back to Noman too he found Noman staring at him, a strange look in his eyes. The gentle breeze ruffled his brown hair and blew it into his eyes, but it was only after a very long time that he blinked and averted his gaze.

Noman looked at the ground, smiling. “You want the contents of that chamber, Colonel Sheppard. In truth, we probably have no use for it. I’ll be happy to give everything in that chamber to you if you and your Second would help me in return,” he said finally, and when he looked back up his smile was somewhat unpleasant.

John looked at Teyla, but she couldn’t offer him any insight into what was going on. “Okay, sure. What do you need?” John asked, cautious.

“Our world is heading towards elections. We are at our last round, and I have petitioned to lead the combined interests of Olam. I’ll attempt to give you a short explanation about our governing system, so that you’ll have a better understanding of what I ask.

“There are two rounds of elections. On the first round any person or group may participate, as long as they represent a new interest for the people of Olam. The residents of Olam choose who they want to continue on to the last round of elections according to the various interests being represented,” Noman started.

“Oh. Like adopting a certain low proposal and being elected according to it,” Rodney chimed in from Teyla’s other side. Ronon beside him looked at Noman with suspicion.

“The two interests that received the most votes will be the final nominees, and the decision will fall between them. Until the time of the second elections each of the losing interests from the previous round must ally themselves with one of the two main rival interests, and that is so that after the elections the winning interest will have supporters in the Council of Law that decides which interest will be made into a law. The party that suggested the winning interest must fill sixty of the hundred seats of the Council, while the party that suggested the losing interest has only forty.”

“So it’s like a politician whose platform is a low proposal that must make coalitional treaties with less popular politicians in order to secure a majority after the elections. And the winning politician’s law proposal will be made into an actual law because he has the majority of the council on his side and the support of the people, and the people are happy because other popular law proposals will also be turned into laws because of the coalitional treaties,” Rodney explained, a look of wonderment in his eyes. “Huh, that’s actually quite nice.”

“Thank you, Doctor McKay,” Noman smiled at Rodney and bowed his head slightly at the compliment.

“So you’re law proposal… uh… interest… is?” Rodney prompted.

“My interest is one of the two main rivals in this final round,” Noman replied, which was no answer at all.

“Which is?” John asked, his suspicion rising in the face of Noman’s evasiveness.

“For every person to be able to choose a Second regardless of their gender.”

John took a moment to take that in, trying to decipher what that meant, and failed. He had no idea what Noman was referring to, and wondered whether women are not allowed to take part in the politics of this world, because that was the closest he could place that statement.

“I am sorry, Noman, but when you say ‘a Second’ you mean…” Teyla trailed off meaningfully, sounding as confused as John was.

“Someone who has been through a legal binding ceremony, of course,” Noman replied promptly. “As an advanced society that allows a man to take himself a Second who is another man you’re the perfect example of the road we must take in order to become as enlightened as we seek to be,” he added.

John stared at him, speechless. Noman assumed that because John called Lorne ‘his second’ – which John only vaguely remembered doing – he meant that he and Lorne were married. Noman, John realized, was trying to lead a revolution by promoting gay rights in his world, using John and Lorne as his winning card. Somehow even though John’s brain repeated those facts to him, his mind refused to comprehend it.

“We’ll do it,” Rodney said suddenly, smiling and clapping his hands once as if it was a done deal.

“We-we will?” Teyla turned to Rodney, as did John, looking confused and concerned. John suspected that he, on the other hand, looked every bit as horrified as he was feeling.

“That is wonderful news! If my people can see your example then my group’s interest is bound to win in the final round of elections. Once I take the role of High Councilor of the Council of Law I will have the authority to give you whatever it is that you want from that chamber to strengthen our new alliance,” Noman said warmly, beaming at John and his team.

Rodney beamed right back. “See? Of course we’ll do it!” he told Teyla, a note of smug victory in his voice.

“No, we won’t!” John finally managed to find his voice, and raised it impressively at Rodney. What the hell was Rodney thinking, damn it!? John wasn’t gay, and neither was Lorne. Hell, they were forbidden from even speaking about such things, and now Rodney wanted him to pretend that he lives happily ever after with his second in command!?

“McKay,” John began, getting up and looming over his friend, lacing his voice with as much anger as he could. “If you think that I’m going to-”

“Come with me for a moment,” Rodney interrupted him, getting up as well and smiling at Noman as he practically dragged John to the side.

John yanked his arm from Rodney’s grasp angrily, turning to look at him. “What the hell were you thinking!?” he asked incredulously, not remembering being this angry with Rodney in a very long time. “This is madness, why the hell did you tell him we’d do it!? Do you even know what he’s asking us to do!?”

Rodney’s expression was serious and his mouth was set in a crooked line. “He’s asking you and Lorne to pretend to be a happy gay couple in order to convince his people that gay people deserve the same rights as straight people,” Rodney replied, looking at John intently.

“Yes, Rodney, that’s exactly what we’re talking about! And there’s only one small problem with that plan – I’m not gay!” John hissed angrily, the old urge he used to feel during most of his first year in Atlantis to deck Rodney returning with a vengeance.

“I know you’re not,” Rodney huffed, rolling his eyes at John. “But we don’t have any other choice. If we can get Noman in a position of power, we get our ZedPMs and drones,” he claimed.

John stared at him, unbelieving. “This is from the guy who wanted to take a nearly depleted ZPM that was in use protecting a planet full of children?” he asked snidely, crossing his arms over his chest angrily.

Rodney mirrored the gesture, looking back defiantly. “Things have changed since then,” he said.

“Yes, they have! We have the Deadalus now. There’s nothing stopping us from going back in, sticking a locator beacon on the ZPMs and having the Deadalus beam them up!” John was nearly shouting now. It was only pure luck that Rodney had managed to drag him far enough from Noman while he was still shocked that they weren’t overheard.

“Yes, there is. If Noman is half as smart as I think he is, and while I don’t have much faith in people in general being smart I must assume that he has at least a small amount of intelligence, he’ll put a guard over that wall. And even if we could stick a locator beacon on those ZedPMs what would happen if they manage to open the wall themselves and find out we took everything behind their backs?”

“Rodney, they don’t have the gene! How can they open the damn wall!?”

“This planet was once occupied by the Ancients. The probability of one of them having the gene is just the same as the probability of someone from Earth having it!” Rodney cried back, sounding as exasperated as if John was a rebellious six-year-old. “And then what would happen if the Coalition hears about it? Huh?”

John decided that they needed to check the coffee that was served in the mess hall this morning. Maybe it was responsible for Rodney becoming stupid, because something must’ve been. “McKay,” he said slowly, trying to be as articulate and clear as possible. “Up until the moment we arrived here, which was five hours ago, they didn’t even know for sure what the Stargate was used for.”

“And if they find a tablet with an explanation on how to work it?”

“Oh, because the Ancients were so big on leaving detailed manuals behind!”

Rodney took a deep breath. “Look, let me make this simpler for you. You seem to have a rudimentary grasp of mathematics, so I’ll paint you an equation. You and Lorne pretending to be gays equals three ZedPMs, six thousand drones, five hundred personal shields and seven hundred personal weapons,” Rodney said impatiently.

“You’re forgetting that this equation also equals me and Lorne landing in Leavenworth for a very long time and getting ourselves discharged with dishonor,” John retorted icily.

“No one has to know!”

“And what do we write in our report to explain this? That we found a ZPM tree!?”

“Oh, ha-ha. Listen-”

“No,” John cut Rodney short, something he should’ve done a long time ago, his voice low and dangerous. “You are going to go back to Noman, and you’re going to apologize and tell him that we can’t do what he wants us to do. You got me into this mess, now you’re going to get me out,” John ordered, pointing back at where Noman was now talking with Teyla and Ronon. Both Teyla and Ronon kept gazing at John and Rodney, uncertainty written over Teyla’s face and a frown adoring Ronon’s.

Rodney put his hands on his hips, tilted his head to the side and stared at John without saying a word, his entire body screaming defiance. John wanted to shoot him.

“Why are you so adamant about this, damn it!?” John asked, frustrated.

 

“Because there’s a chance that they can figure out how to work the gate. And if they do and they find out that we stole from them then the Coalition is bound to hear about it as well,” Rodney said, in all seriousness. “If it was two months ago I’d have no problems with sticking a locator beacon on the entire stash of Ancient weapons and beaming it up using the Deadalus. But since then the Coalition was formed and beyond the fact that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in some flee-bitten prison cell on a world where coffee hasn’t even been invented, we need allies here. And we need to know that if we step through the gate we won’t be attacked or left out for the Wraith to feed on us,” he said, his voice breaking over the last few words like it always did when he was trying very hard to convince someone of something he believed to be unquestionably true.

And he had valid points. Woolsey also told John to be very careful, and John remembered the last time they were at the hands of the Coalition none too fondly. He knew that the next time there might not be a trial and Woolsey might not be able to come to their rescue or lure one of their captors with sweet promises.

This was not a decision he felt comfortable making alone, and that fact frustrated and angered him more than anything Rodney had said so far.

~o~o~o~o~

 “He thinks that you and Major Lorne are what?” Woolsey was so shocked it might have been funny if it wasn’t for the fact that they were talking about John’s career.

“Married. He thinks we’re married,” John forced through clenched teeth.

Woolsey looked at John’s team, seated around the conferences room’s large wooden table, eyebrows climbing up from behind his glasses. “And none of you thought to correct his mistake?” he asked, a note of incredulousness in his voice.

“I tried,” John said tightly, harshly, shooting an angry look at Rodney.

Rodney rolled his eyes at him. “Would you stop being so melodramatic? If it was me I’d sleep with Lorne in front of their entire council if it got me the ZedPMs,” Rodney snapped back.

“But it’s not you, damn it! It’s me!” John’s eruption startled Rodney, and even startled himself. He bowed his head and raked his hands through his hair, exhaling loudly. “Rodney, do you realize that you’re asking me to do something I’m not even sure I can do?” he asked his friend, more quietly but with as much seriousness as he could muster. This wasn’t a joke. He wasn’t gay, and neither was Lorne. Hell, John didn’t even know if Lorne was seeing someone. 

“Colonel,” Woolsey said soothingly, sensing John’s agitation, “I realized that what was asked of you might be a little unorthodox-” he began, and John looked at him sharply. 

“Unorthodox? I have dedicated my life to an organization that forbids such actions, and screw anyone who dares wave that Don’t Ask Don’t Tell thing at me now because that’s crap and you know it,” John cut Woolsey off angrily. Was Woolsey really trying to justify Rodney?

“I know that,” Rodney intervened somberly. “And despite that, six thousand drones are enough to wipe out every single Wraith vessel in our quarter of the galaxy and we’d still have plenty more to spare,” he said with a strange conviction in his voice. John knew that under all the snipping and sarcasm Rodney wanted the Wraith defeated just like the rest of them did. John did too, but he never imagined it would take such a toll on him and him alone.

“Is that really so, Doctor McKay?” Woolsey asked, surprised and hopeful.

Rodney nodded his head. “Yes, and that’s not even bringing into account what other things we could do with the personal shields, or the ZedPMs. I mean, we would have an entire ZedPM to spare!” Rodney was getting excited once more, hands gesturing around in the air and eyes aglow at the thought of the ZPMs.

“What do you mean, a spare ZPM?” Woolsey asked, his words coming out slowly and haltingly as he tried to take everything in.

“After the Replicators’ occupation of the city we were left with three ZedPMs. One was shipped back to Earth to power up the Ancient outpost, one was taken to the Prometheus to help it in the fight against the Ori, and one was left here. That one was depleted when we escaped from the Replicator beam, but we replaced it with the one we stole from the Replicators, which still powers the city.

“Even if we wanted more, we have room for only two other ZedPMs here in Atlantis, which leaves a spare one,” Rodney said gleefully. He could have been dancing for all the difference it would make, because he was fidgeting and moving in his seat with barely contained excitement and nearly hitting Teyla on the head when he gestured wildly.

“And they’re willing to give us all that? Why?” Woolsey sounded skeptic. John thought it was a good question. If they had an ounce of wisdom they wouldn’t give a stash of powerful weapons to a race of ‘aliens’ they didn’t even know. It would render the entire discussion about John’s alleged marriage to Lorne moot and leave John with enough time to kick Rodney’s ass all over the gym before they were due to go back.

“Noman said on a number of occasions that his people have no need for the Ancestral weapons. They do not know how to work them, and even if they did they have not yet found signs of any platform from which to launch the drones. Also, they have not been visited by the Wraith in countless generations,” Teyla provided, her voice slightly stronger than usual in order to cut short any response either John or Rodney were about to make.

“And this is the only thing they’ve asked for in return?” Woolsey looked relieved to hear her, after having been forced to listen to John and Rodney argue for the past half hour.

“He said that while they’d be willing to receive our help in other areas, it must be done gradually. And unless we wish to wait for the release of the Ancestral items…” Teyla trailed off meaningfully, and Rodney jumped almost as if on cue.

“No! Definitely not waiting!” he exclaimed, causing all heads to turn to look at him. “You never know what might happen and there are all sorts of things that could deplete a ZedPM,” he explained a touch defensively. “I mean, what if there was some sort of an accident?”

“Oh, and you would know. You managed to deplete one all by your two selves,” John remarked venomously.

Rodney shot him an annoyed glare. “I didn’t have much of a choice. It was either that or watching my double die from cascade failure. And besides, you all said that you hated Rod!”

“I kinda wished he’d stayed right now. At least he would have had the brains not to start spouting nonsense and getting me into trouble!”

Woolsey cleared his throat meaningfully. “Gentlemen, please,” he said, waiting until they broke away from their staring contest. “I happen to agree with Doctor McKay. Regardless of the incident in question, imagine what would have happened if during your trip in space two years ago you had three ZPMs instead of just the one?” he asked, causing them all to wince.

If they had had more than one ZPM Elizabeth would still be alive, the Replicators wouldn’t have destroyed all those worlds and many other people wouldn’t have been hurt.

“Exactly,” Woolsey agreed, almost as if reading their minds. “I also think that there was nothing more you could have offered them other than weapons, and that is unacceptable.”

“Wait a minute,” John straightened in his seat. “You’re not really thinking of making us go through with it, are you?” he demanded, desperation and frustration coursing through him. Was he the only one who understood that this was complete madness?

“Yes, we are. If we can get Noman in a position of power we get the ZedPMs,” Rodney said sharply, his patience with John wearing thin. Well, let it, John didn’t mind.

“We haven’t even heard what his rival has to offer. Maybe the other guy will accept something else from us that doesn’t require me to do ridiculous things!” John turned to Woolsey in his desperation, trying to get him to see reason.

“Maybe he will, and maybe he won’t. We may not have the necessary impact on his cause to secure his victory as we have on Noman’s. If we ally ourselves with the losing side what will we do then, Colonel?” Woolsey spoke up, looking John in the eyes. John could see that he was leaning towards accepting Rodney’s course of action, and wanted to throttle him awake. “The way I see it, we have a chance to influence the results of the elections on that planet, and thus secure ourselves the ZPMs and many more useful items.”

John stared at him, trying hard to find an argument that he hadn’t used yet. “And who says that Noman will actually give us the ZPMs if he’s elected?” he asked, holding on desperately to that question. “We have only his word.”

“He said that if you agree, he is willing to give us one ZPM as a token of good faith until the time of the elections,” Teyla said, sounding a bit rueful at having to smash John’s hopes.

John glared at her angrily. “He did? When did he say that?” he demanded.

“While you and Rodney were… talking. Ronon and I have explained to him the purpose of the ZPMs and he said that out of all the things in the chamber, those sounded the least dangerous to his people,” she replied, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Yeah. Said that while we were there he would also have a chance to get to know us and our intentions,” Ronon had no problems looking at John, and John could see that he, too, supported Rodney’s idea.

“’Our intentions’? ‘Our intentions’ right now are to lie to them, those are ‘our intentions’!” John said bitterly.

“Sheppard, they’d be making a pact with Atlantis as a whole. What you and Lorne do there is personal and no one has to know that it’s a lie, if what we tell them about the city and our goals in the fight against the Wraith isn’t,” Ronon said matter of fact.

“I agree with Ronon, Colonel. While I don’t approve whole heartedly of influencing the result of any elections on any planet, I cannot let an opportunity to obtain this many needed technologies at such a low price slip by us. And I completely approve of Noman’s way of thinking. By having you stay on Olam, he will be able to judge whether we’re truly friends or foes,” Woolsey added, mild regret showing in his eyes as John looked at him with disbelief.

“And if he decides that we’re foes?” John asked quietly.

“Your job is to make sure that he doesn’t,” Woolsey said simply, and then took off his glasses and closed his eyes. When he opened them again they held disarming honesty. “Colonel, I can’t and won’t order you to do this-”

“Yes you can!” Rodney cut him off, but Woolsey held his hand up to stop him without even looking in Rodney’s direction, never breaking eye contact with John.

“All I can do is promise you that no one outside the senior staff would know the truth, including the SGC and Earth. You know that at the moment I can’t order the Deadalus to steal the ZPMs, and neither can Washington. We can try to do that once things have settled down with the Coalition, but this may not happen in the foreseeable future and we have no guarantee that we will remain safe from the Wraith or from other threats that may come our way in the meantime.

“I’m hoping that you can see that what Doctor McKay has offered is the most prudent course of action,” he said quietly, and looked at John with patience, giving him time to think.

There was nothing much to think about. John knew that this was the best course of action, it was the fact that he’d have to put everything he had worked his entire life to earn in danger that he didn’t approve of.

And then there was Lorne.

“Lorne should have a say in the matter as well,” John said quietly, voice low with defeat.

Woolsey smiled at him a smile that wasn’t at all victorious, which John appreciated. “Yes, he should,” Woolsey said, and tapped his earpiece. “Amelia, could you send for Major Lorne? I’ll be waiting for him in the briefing room,” he spoke into his earpiece, and nodded his approval once he received Amelia’s answer. “Thank you.”

Lorne must’ve been close to a transporter because he entered the conference room less than a minute after being summoned. John turned to look at him, actually seeing him for the first time.

Lorne had a few traits that were hard to miss, like his buff figure and his blue eyes. John remembered those blue eyes looking at him frantically, pupils dilated, as he pointed a gun at who he thought in his dream was a Replicator. But other than that John had never really paid Lorne’s face or body any attention. He never had any reason to give Lorne anything other than a fleeting look, and certainly no reason to look at Lorne as an object of desire.

But now that John looked, he could see that Lorne was actually a good looking man. His eyes were big and his eyebrows were thick and expressive. His nose was short with large nostrils, and his mouth was straight and thin-lipped. His ears were small and his hair short and flat, and there was something pleasant about his mannerisms and smile that put people at ease.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Woolsey?” Lorne asked as he entered the room, though he slowed down when he saw that John and his team were there as well and were all turning to look at him. “Sir,” he acknowledged John, “when did you get back? And how did it go?”

John turned away from him and looked at the table. Let someone else explain it to him.

“Actually, Major, it was beyond my wildest dreams,” Rodney filled in happily, waving at Lorne to sit on the empty chair beside him.

Lorne’s brows rose and he smiled. “Really, Doc? You got the ZPM?” he asked, honest excitement in his voice.

Rodney’s smile was so bright it hurt John’s eyes. “ZedPMs. Plural,” he corrected, and Lorne nearly gaped.

“How many?”

“Three. Fully charged,” Rodney said delightedly. “And six thousand drones, five hundred personal shields and seven hundred personal Lantean weapons,” he continued to recite happily, watching Lorne the entire time.

Lorne sat back in his chair, a look of awe on his face. “Wow,” he said quietly. “The things we could do with three ZPMs are…” he tried to find the right words, looking excitedly all around the table. “I mean, we could actually replace the ZPM on M7G-677 and relocate refugees there, or start powering up systems in the city that we never had the power to spare for before. And six thousand drones! That’s enough to take out-”

“-All Wraith vessels in our quarter of the galaxy, yeah, we know,” John cut into the Major’s excitement impatiently.

Lorne looked at John and frowned. “So what do they want in return? Do I need to get my team ready to pick up the ZPMs?” he asked, turning back to practical lines after seeing John’s scowl.

“They want our help in winning their elections,” Teyla answered him.

“Winning the elections? Normal, democratic elections?” Lorne asked, and Rodney nodded. “That’s all?” he sounded suspicious, for which he got full marks from John.

“Their way of life is undergoing several major changes. Noman, the man we were talking to, said that he would be glad to receive any advancements we have made and are willing to share in the fields of medicine and science. But as an official representative of his people he cannot allow us to flood them with information they may not fully grasp and would misuse to bring harm upon themselves. So our help with the elections is the best thing we can offer at the moment,” Teyla explained.

Lorne’s brows shot up. “Well, this is new. A less advanced race that actually refuses superior technology for fear of bringing destruction on themselves,” Lorne said, clearly referring to the many rejections made by advanced races to Earth regarding sharing advanced technology.

John, however, wasn’t really in the mood for SGC stories. “I’m glad you find it so intriguing, Major,” he snapped icily, and Lorne quickly flashed him a guilty look.

“Not entirely, Major,” Woolsey intervened. “The people of M1M-995 are willing to give us the entire contents of the Ancient armory. However, due to a… well, an honest mistake, they think that you and Colonel Sheppard are married. In exchange for the ZPMs they want you and the Colonel to help them in their attempts to secure equal rights for same-sex couples,” Woolsey explained.

It was only because John was waiting for it that he caught the fleeting look of horror and fear in Lorne’s eyes. Lorne got up, agitated. “But I’m not-”

“We know you’re not gay, Lorne,” John cut him off once more. “Like Mr. Woolsey said, it was an honest mistake. They take pride in their artists, I commented to Teyla that you’d be happy to come and visit there. They asked who you were and I told them that you’re my second. Apparently being a Second on 995 is the same as being someone’s husband,” John explained tiredly.

“Actually the Second is the submissive partner of the two,” Teyla corrected gently, and Lorne turned to look at her, eyes impossibly wide and horrified.

“You want to tell me that there’s an entire world out there that thinks that the Colonel is…” Thankfully he stopped there, but John knew what he wanted to say. An entire world that thinks that John is fucking Lorne.

John bowed his head and looked at the table as the same discussion that had occurred moments ago between John and Woolsey now took place between Woolsey and Lorne, and looked up only when Woolsey pulled out his winning argument.

“Major, I know that you’re not allowed to do such things under the military’s code of conduct. I can’t order you to do this just like I can’t order Colonel Sheppard to, but I can promise you both that all anyone will ever know is that we sent the people of M1M-995 medical supplies and shared gate technology with them in return for the ZPMs,” Woolsey told Lorne, who listened attentively even though John noticed that his hands were clasped together harder than necessary.

“I understand that,” Lorne said quietly, casting John a cautious look. “I just don’t like it.”

“None of us do, Major. But I need you to understand that this is the best possible plan,” Woolsey replied.

Lorne leaned forward over the table and looked down at the polished surface, brow creasing and mouth tightening. John heard him exhale much like John himself had a while ago, but when he looked up there was acceptance in his eyes. “How long until the elections?” he asked, voice measured.

“Three weeks,” Woolsey answered.

Lorne turned to look at John, his eyes searching. “There’s a simple truth we can’t ignore here, sir, which is that we need every advantage we can get,” he told John, and John had no choice but to nod. He was right. They had the Wraith looming over their heads, a group of rouge Asgards that managed to escape their guns and nothing ensured them that those scary silvery alien creatures that John saw in another reality when they boarded that alternate Deadalus didn’t also exist in this one.

“So you’ll do it?” Woolsey asked, addressing both of them.

“We don’t really have much of a choice,” John said, defeated.

“Thank you, Major, Colonel,” Woolsey concluded. “While you’re there I want you to assess the planet and the people. We have a chance to create bonds with a planet that knows nothing about us except what we tell them, and we need an ally when dealing with the Coalition as well.

“Doctor McKay. I want you to make sure that there is no launching platform on the planet. It would also be good to know why they have gone for so long undetected by the Wraith,” Woolsey looked at Rodney, who nodded briskly. “Doctor Keller will be joining you to provide the cover story of humanitarian aid, and also to help you with any difficulties that might arise.

“Ronon, Teyla,” Woolsey addressed both of them. “I would like you to move around and be alert. We don’t know what treatment homosexual couples might get on M1M-995. If it’s anything like Earth I think both Major Lorne and Colonel Shepard will need all the help they can get and I want you to look out for them,” Woolsey said, bringing forth another problem John had not even thought of.

“Of course,” Teyla agreed.

Finally Woolsey looked at everyone around the table. “I wish you all good luck.”


	3. Chapter 3

After the meeting John went to his office. Usually he tried to avoid being there but now it was a welcome refuge. No one would think of looking him there and he needed some time to think. He went to the cabinet that stood against one wall and unlocked it, pulling Lorne’s file out.

John still remembered the meeting in Landry’s office a few years earlier, where he was told that Lorne would be his new 2IC.

_“…Marksmanship awards, service awards, graduated top of his class in the academy. Has a degree in mining engineering and graduated with honor. Served his country during the gulf war with the cartographers’ unit and received the bronze star for his heroism. Was nominated for Outstanding Airman of the year. Been going through the gate for five years now and even participated in the battle over _   
_Antarctica_   
_ two years ago, receiving the Distinguished Flying Cross. Other than that he’s an organized, loyal, resourceful and brave young man,” Landry looked at John, his eyes sliding from John’s face to his shoulder where the brand new silver oak leaves were glistening. John knew that Landry didn’t approve of his promotion._

_When John said nothing, Landry sighed. “I know that you’re not too keen on Major Lorne because he was Colonel Caldwell’s appointment and not yours, Sheppard, but you need a new 2IC,” he said impatiently. _

_John looked back rebelliously. “I already have a 2IC, sir,” he replied stiffly. He hated that the _   
_SGC_   
_ was trying to impose staff on him at such crucial levels, and he had plans to find Ford and bring him back the second he returned to Atlantis. Appointing someone to take Ford’s place felt like giving up on him, and John would fight until his dying breath before doing that._

_“You mean Lieutenant Ford? Colonel, please tell me you’re joking!” Landry chuckled with no humor whatsoever. “Regardless of the fact that he’s a twenty-five-year-old kid and still a Lieutenant, it is my understanding that he’s high on some Wraith enzyme. Even if you did manage to bring him back he’s going to need a very long time here on Earth to do some recovery, and after that his continued participation in the expedition will be negotiated on higher levels than this,” Landry said incredulously, his eyes harsh as he stared John down. _

_John knew that he was never going to win that battle. He had command over Atlantis and he’d take care of Ford’s search and rescue when he got back, unless he’d been given specific orders. But he’d be damned if he was going to allow them to stick their poster boy on him like this. The man was a damn walking grocery list._

_“Sir, I’m going to need someone who can fight the Wraith. He needs to be smart and fast, to know how to stand his ground and how to resist mental and physical strain,” John said tightly. He and Landry didn’t really see eye to eye. Landry wanted Caldwell in Atlantis and was angry that Elizabeth pulled her connections to leave John as the military commander, and John was angry that Landry was willing to kick him out of the expedition that easily if he had gotten his way._

_“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about that, Colonel. Major Lorne had had five whole years to meet with all sorts of aliens and fight all sorts of battles. He started with a mining operation just as green as you were on your first gate travel, and now if it wasn’t for the fact that his ATA gene is almost as strong as yours he would have been given command of his own team here,” Landry said, a touch of anger in his voice. “Any other problems I should know about?” he asked in a voice that clearly said that John had better keep his mouth closed. _

_“No, sir,” John barely forced the words out. _

_“Good!” Landry beamed at him, though his eyes remained hard. He pressed a button and spoke into the intercom. “Walter, send Major Lorne in.”_

_John expected at the time to see some small and scrawny kid whose ego reached the moon. That was the type of favorites Generals usually had, with just enough attitude to make his sponsors chuckle and wave their finger at him fondly but who also knew how to suck up when needed. Instead the man who came into the office was anything but. He was buff, in his thirties if John had to make a guess, and his face was serious and respectful. His voice was calm when he entered and he didn’t salute, simply stood at easy attention._

John had spared Lorne no further look after the meeting in Landry’s office, even though Lorne always smiled at him pleasantly whenever they ran into each other in the SGC’s hallways. Gradually however, the smiles turned to subdued greetings, and it wasn’t until John was in Atlantis and had to put together new teams that he remembered that he had not seen Lorne while on the return trip on the Deadalus at all. 

John had teamed Lorne with Stevens, Walker and Parrish, remembering something Rodney had said about Botanists never getting into any kind of trouble unless it was carnivorous plants, and thinking that it got one worry off his shoulders if the new poster boy stayed out of harm’s way.

Then Lorne had found Ford and John realized that Ford was not coming back. He gave Lorne Ford’s duties as executive officer because he had no choice, but couldn’t manage to see him in a positive light, especially after he so brightly got himself kidnapped by the Genii. He started really trusting Lorne only after they were attacked by the Replicators’ beam and John had seen firsthand Lorne’s leadership skills and flying capabilities.

After John had noticed that, he also noticed that Lorne had proven himself to be the promised asset to the expedition. He had rescued John and his team many times and almost never needed rescue himself. He was trusted by both Elizabeth and Carter, and John knew that he and Carson were close friends because he heard Lorne talking to Carson’s mother at his funeral on Earth.

Yet strangely enough, John never really took the time to get to know Lorne. He knew that Lorne did almost half of the paperwork that was supposed to have been done by John simply because it always disappeared from his desk and reappeared done. He knew that Lorne used to sleepwalk in his childhood because he had admitted it after nearly killing John in his sleep. Even his knowledge of the Major’s painting hobby was only due to the fact that Lorne came running to the control tower to help after Hewston exploded while still holding his brush and smeared with paint.

Hell, John wasn’t even sure he knew the man’s first name. He had read Lorne’s file, of course. He couldn’t afford not to. But that was four years ago and he hadn’t exactly focused on the personal details of it.

Looking at the file, Lorne’s first name read Evan. And to John’s surprise, they were of the same age. Somehow to John Lorne always looked younger, mostly because poster boys tended to be cocky young officers. He was born in San Francisco and had an older sister-

The Ancient doorbell chimed and John frowned at the interruption. He thought about pretending not to be there, because he was almost never in his office, but reconsidered when he remembered that it might have something to do with their recent impossible mission and the reason he was studying Lorne’s file.

Heaving a sigh, John closed the file and reached for the door control, touching it to open the door and revealing the very person that occupied John’s thoughts.

John raised his eyebrows, once again taking note of the Major’s appearance. He was wearing the military issue long-sleeved gray shirt and it stretched nicely over his wide shoulders and chest, also revealing a flat stomach. He had his sidearm strapped on his thigh, something not even John did all the time, and his boots were nicely cleaned.

John thought for a moment to ask ‘is there anything I can help you with?’ in the same tone of voice he usually used when he didn’t want to be bothered, but now he and Lorne were on the same boat and he didn’t want this to be even more strained that it already was. “Come on in, Lorne,” he invited instead.

Lorne came in, touching the control crystals to close the door after him, and looked up at John to meet his eyes. Lorne was shorter than John was, John suddenly realized.

“Sir, I can see that you’re uncomfortable doing this,” Lorne said without preamble, taking the seat John offered him. When John thought about it, Lorne never talked to him unless he had something to say that was work related, and even then he said it as efficiently and succinctly as possible. “I just wanted to say, sir, that if you really have a problem with it we can always try to find some other way, maybe send someone else.”

John was tempted to take him on his offer, but it was not practical. He wasn’t sure what would happen if word of this reached Washington but he knew that heads would roll, and the more people to know about it the more chances it had to spread around. He trusted the senior staff to have more sense than that. He wasn’t sure he trusted anyone else.

“It’s fine, Lorne. With me it is, at least. What about you?” John asked, and Lorne raised surprised blue eyes at him.

“Me?” Lorne looked confused and somewhat wary.

“Yeah. For example, are you seeing someone at the moment?” John shrugged. It was strange having small talk with Lorne, but he needed to get used to it.

“No, sir,” Lorne smiled a rueful smile. “Nothing like that.”

John raised an eyebrow. “What, no one caught your eye?” he tried for a light tone, and was impressed that he succeeded.

“Well, yes, but nothing could ever come out of it,” Lorne dismissed the question quickly and looked at John with sharp eyes. “Sir, the reason I asked you whether you’re sure is that I don’t want this to change the way things are between us now for the worse,” he said, serious and tense.

John closed his own eyes briefly. That was yet another thing he hadn’t even thought about. “I don’t know, Lorne,” he told Lorne honestly. Lorne deserved it. It wasn’t his fault that he fell right into the middle of this messed up situation. “I can’t promise you anything because I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he added, some of his frustration escaping his tight control.

John liked letting go of control from time to time. Like boarding a ferries wheel, or flying an F-302 close to the sun. But this? This was not the good kind of not being in control.

“What if it _will_ change things between us?” John asked, needing to know the answer both because Lorne was a good officer that John wanted to keep close and because he was curious.

“I will return to the SGC,” there was something final in Lorne’s voice when he said that, something that indicated that he had thought deep and hard about it, and it bothered John. Lorne didn’t deserve that.

“No,” John said, just as final.

Lorne smiled ruefully. “Please, sir. It’s not like you’ll be the one to go back if things get messy. You belong here.”

“And you don’t, Major?”

“I do,” Lorne said confidently. “But I can find my place back at the SGC. When you were there you almost went crazy. Besides, they need you here more than they need me and that is a fact you can’t argue with. I’m more easily replaceable than you are.”

John leaned forward, coming closer to Lorne to get his point across. “Major, even if it will cost me in blood, you will not be sent back to the SGC because of this,” he said lowly, voice a little hoarse with the seriousness he put into it. “You’re a good officer and a good commander, and you don’t deserve to be punished for something you have no choice but to do,” he stared at Lorne hard, wanting to see understanding in his eyes.

“I could have refused,” Lorne pointed out instead.

“Like hell you could have. Just like I could have,” John countered harshly. They both knew that there was only one answer they could have given. “Do I make myself clear?” he demanded.

The Ancient doorbell chimed again before Lorne could give an answer, but John made no move to reach for the door control. “Major?” he asked again, not breaking eye contact.

Lorne finally looked down and nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, but John had no idea whether he believed John or not.

“Good,” John said, deciding as he reached for the door control that they’d take things as they came.

Once the door opened Doctor Keller came through, her smile faltering as when she saw Lorne sitting by John’s desk.

“Hi,” she said, raising her hand hesitantly. “Uh… Rodney said that he saw Major Lorne entering your office, Colonel, but… uh… I’m obviously interrupting something so I’ll just-”

John raised a hand to stop her from both talking and leaving. “It’s fine,” he said. “We’re finished with the important stuff.”

Keller looked relieved. “Oh, good!” she said, beaming at them. “I must say that when Rodney first told me what you’re about to do I laughed in his face,” she smiled warmly at them both. “And when I realized that he wasn’t kidding I yelled at him for five minutes,” she looked smug and pleased with herself, and John grinned.

“As long as you’ll do that a couple of times more I’ll be satisfied,” he said pleasantly. John had known for a while now that Rodney was in love with Keller, and the thought of her yelling at him because of his stupid idea was a comfort. When he looked at Lorne and saw the glint of amusement in his eyes he knew that he was not the only one who had noticed.

“Well, I’ll be happy to do so until the elections are over,” Keller answered with mock self-importance and took the last remaining chair next to Lorne, sitting close to them both.

“You will?”

“Sure. Officially I’m coming along to offer the people of M1M-995 medical supplies and advancements we’ve made in the area. Unofficially I’ll be there to help you two pretend to be gay,” Keller said cheerfully, and John felt a headache beginning to form. Next to him he could just see Lorne’s horrified expression before Lorne turned his head away.

“You will?” John asked again, unable to share her enthusiasm.

“Well, with the physical aspect of it. I believe that the rest of it you can improvise on your own,” Keller’s voice took on a note of uncertainly. John looked at her dubiously, refraining from mentioning that he wasn’t gay for the thousandth time that day. “Well, you’ve had relationships before, haven’t you?” Keller asked hesitantly, her perkiness ebbing away.

“Yes, I have. _With women_,” John reminded her.

“It’s not all that different, you know.”

“I don’t.” John knew that he was being difficult but couldn’t really help it. He sighed, picking up a pen and fiddling with it absently.

Keller looked at him with reproach. “Look, Colonel, I know that you don’t really want to do this but if you’re going to do it anyway you might as well do it right. Otherwise, what’s the point?” she admonished, but John already knew it. He wasn’t narrow minded, and knew that gay men had emotions just like him and liked doing many things that he did as well.

“Sorry, Doc. You were saying?” he apologized, looking briefly at her. She nodded as she accepted his apology, but her lips still pressed together unhappily.

“I know you don’t want to do this,” she started again, gentler this time, “but having a negative attitude is bound to ruin everything. So just… try, okay?” she asked, and John nodded. “Good. Now, I’m no expert on gay sex, but then I doubt that there’s anyone who is. I did, however, teach a class about it during my final year in med school as a favor for a local high-school teacher during national tolerance week.”

John knew what she was about to explain. And he was never going to tell her that he was familiar with the subject. It brought him back to a drunken night when he was eighteen, when he and two of his buddies gave each other hand jobs and John had even given head to each of them in a drunken fit of curiosity. It never went beyond that, and John had never felt curious again or attracted to another man again, but he still knew what the next step entitled.

That being said, having a male hand on your dick, or the vague recollection of someone else’s dick in your mouth, was a far cry from being in a _relationship_ with a guy.

“I’m assuming you two know how gay sex is done, basically?” Keller asked, tone completely professional.

Lorne smirked, talking for the first time since she entered the room. “Doc, we’re working with marines. They use terms like these in their daily talks. It’s kind of hard not to know,” he joked, smiling widely at her and receiving an amused chuckle in return.

“We’ll go over it anyway. Gay sex is achieved through anal penetration. In order to do it without causing harm to the person who’s bottoming the annular muscle needs to be stretched and loosened, and a lubricant needs to be applied by both parties to ensure that no damage is done to the anterior wall of the rectum.

“The pleasure of gay sex is achieved both from the friction caused by thrusting movements and by the stimulation of the prostate gland, which surrounds the urethra just below the urinary bladder, and…” Keller stopped as both John and Lorne stared at her, incredulous. “What?”

Across from John Lorne shook his head, eyes wide open and eyebrows arching up. “Are you sure we’re talking about sex here, Doc? Because I don’t think I’ve ever been more turned off in my life,” he drawled, half-amused.

Keller’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Major. But I’m an M.D., I don’t really know how to give the information any other way. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be asked to have sex, but you might be asked to explain the mechanism behind it,” she said apologetically, resting her hand on Lorne’s uncovered arm and squeezing in reassurance.

Looking at her hand on Lorne’s arm John noticed that Lorne’s arm was muscular and lightly furred, and made Keller’s hand draped over it look small in comparison.

“Doc, we need to convince people to vote for our cause, not chase them away,” John said, tearing his eyes away from the contrast between Keller’s pale skin and Lorne’s military tan. If they’d need to sleep with each other he’d pull the plug on the mission, but he may need to explain things better than that to make it sound normal and appealing. Which, at the moment, it wasn’t.

“I know,” Keller gave him a half-smile and sighed. “Well, it could be just as fun as heterosexual sex, you know,” she dropped the professional tone and her voice took on a desperate edge. John didn’t envy her. She was trying to explain just how much fun gay sex could be to two heterosexual guys.

“I mean, gay people go down on each other, and they have sex games just like heterosexual people do. Their foreplay is a necessary part of the sex so it’s always there, and there are many ways to make it pleasurable. Like rimming, or using sex toys or even…”

John allowed Keller to talk, briefly wondering how and why she knew all that, and looked at where Lorne was trying very hard to read some hidden script on John’s desk top. He didn’t once raise his eyes, even when John’s stare lingered on the top of his head.

John wondered how Lorne pleasured a woman in bed, but couldn’t quite place soft breasts and gentle hands next to Lorne’s wide shoulders. Lorne had mentioned being turned off by Keller’s explanation, and John shared the sentiment. But he did wonder what Lorne would look like when turned on, how his polite mask will fall being at the receiving end of all the things Keller was explaining. John had rarely seen an expression that wasn’t polite attentiveness on his face and he was naturally curious.

As soon as he caught on to what he was thinking he stopped and nearly groaned, but held back at the last moment. He had no desire to explain his current train of thought to either Keller or Lorne, and wasn’t even sure he wanted to dwell on it himself. Instead he rubbed his hands over his eyes tiredly and allowed Keller to prattle on and on about the wonders of homosexuality uninterrupted.

This was by far one of Rodney’s worst ideas. In fact, it was even worse than blowing up three-quarters of a solar system.

He was so screwed.

~o~o~o~o~

“So, are we all set to go?” Rodney clapped his hands with an air of accomplishment about him, and John gave him a disgusted look. They were in front of the gate and Ronon and Rodney were helping Keller carry large suitcases filled with medicines that had no room on the already overloaded FRED.

Turning his back pointedly on Rodney, John cast an assessing look at Lorne. “Major, are we all ready to go?”

Lorne tightened the strap of his thigh holster, the last one in a line of check ups he preformed for the last two minutes, with a sharp tug. “Yes, sir,” Lorne confirmed.

“What!? No, no, no, no, no, what’s the matter with you!? You can’t call him ‘sir’! Hello, you’re supposed to be lovers!” Rodney said vehemently, and John’s eyes widened in disbelief, fear and anger. He looked around them wildly even as he moved to close in on Rodney, grabbing his vest and hauling his back against the gate.

“Damn it Rodney, how much more damage do you want to do!?” John growled in his face, furious. Did Rodney _want_ to get him kicked out of Atlantis? Because he sure as hell behaved that way. “If you’ll slip one more time I swear it to god, McKay, I’ll personally throw your ass through the next incoming wormhole!” he yelled in Rodney’s face, positively seething.

Hands tugged John away from Rodney, and Rodney slowly moved away from the gate, rubbing his hand over the back of his head absently. “I’m really sorry, John,” he said, sounding very sincere. “I-I wasn’t thinking-”

“You’re damn right you weren’t. In fact, you probably stopped sometime the day before yesterday,” John snapped at him, still glaring and ignoring the people who were now staring at the pair of them with confusion.

“Colonel, may I see all of you in the conference room please?” Woolsey’s voice cut through the staring contest between John and Rodney.

Reluctantly John broke away and stalked up the stairs and into the conferences room, the others trailing close behind. Once the doors were closed, Woolsey turned to Rodney with a serious expression on his face.

“Need I remind you, Doctor McKay, that your discretion is vital to the success of this operation?” he asked Rodney mildly, and Rodney looked back defiantly. John mentally groaned.

“No, and I said I was sorry. But I think you need to remind _them_ that they are supposed to be lovers,” he answered back, jerking his thumb in the direction of both John and Lorne.

Woolsey nodded. “That we need to do as well,” he agreed, and turned to John and Lorne. “Colonel, Major, despite the obviously bad timing, Doctor McKay has a point. We’ve been neglecting an important aspect of this fraud. You _are_ supposed to act like lovers.”

“That means you can’t go around calling each other ‘Lorne’ and ‘sir’,” Rodney intervened, making a passable imitation of both Lorne and John.

John held onto his frustration. He had agreed to do this, he reminded himself. “So,” he forced his voice to be as mild as Woolsey’s. “Should we go with ‘honey’ or ‘baby’?” he asked snidely, and then grimaced. He wasn’t doing a very good job at being agreeable, and he was directing his frustration at the wrong person.

Lorne flinched beside him, eyebrows drawing together. “I think ‘Evan’ would be fine, sir… uh… John.” It was weird, hearing his name coming out of the Major’s mouth like that.

John decided to give it a shot. “Evan,” he said, and was rewarded with Lorne looking up at him with surprise. He had never known anyone whose name was Evan, and it rolled unfamiliar in his mouth.

“Well, that’s a start,” Woolsey said pleasantly, satisfied. “Now, add some casual touch. Remember, you’re in an intimate relationship, you should be touching each other almost unconsciously. A hand on the shoulder, for example, would do wonders in making someone believe your act,” he demonstrated by placing his hand casually on Teyla’s shoulder, and she smiled graciously at him.

John wondered when they all became such experts on homosexual relationships, and was sure that with the exception of himself no male in the room had even been with another man before.

“It would also help if you sounded, uh… what’s the word? Proud? Yes, that’s it. You should sound proud of Lorne when introducing him. Don’t just step through the gate and throw ‘this is Lorne’ over your shoulder. Try doing it like this,” Rodney stepped up to Lorne and smiled at Ronon, who stood passively on the other side of the room. “Noman, this is my Second, Evan,” he said pleasantly and with a hint of actual pride in his voice, standing just a little too close to Lorne and touching Lorne’s arm briefly.

John stared, a sour taste in his mouth. There was something very wrong with the image of Rodney standing beside Lorne like that, especially knowing that Rodney was in love with Keller. Keller, on the other hand, beamed at Rodney with the same pride about which Rodney was talking.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been married, remember?” John cut the demonstrations short and Lorne sent him a grateful, if surprised, look. “We’ll manage,” he said shortly, making to exit the room.

“See to it that you do, Colonel. I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake here,” Woolsey called after him. John barely held back a sharp reply, not really needing a reminder. He wasn’t an idiot, and it didn’t take Rodney’s brain to be able to figure out that three ZPMs were an answer to many pressing problems.

Instead, John simply stormed down the stairs and waited for everyone else there.

After that they were in front of the gate and ready to embark with no further incident. John sent Lorne one last look, not really sure what he was searching for or what he was trying to convey, and went through.

The other side had been changed dramatically since their first visit to Olam. Where once was a cave, now it looked like a large hall. Metal beams supported the mass of the rocky hill over the gate and the walls opened to the sides, leaving much more room to gather and letting bright natural light stream in.

John took a deep breath and tried to resolve this mess once and for all. Men were not women. They didn’t need to be protected and cuddled. There was no reason for John to look back to see if Lorne followed him through, just like he would never have expected Nancy to look after her to see if he had come into the house as well, even though she always did. Instead, John expected Nancy to trust that he’d come, and so he trusted that Lorne would come as well.

He wasn’t disappointed.

Lorne came to stand next to him, just a little too close like Rodney had demonstrated before, and John stifled the urge to step aside. He watched Lorne look around him, mouth curving in a slight smile, before looking forward at their welcoming party.

Noman was there, as were the folks that worked at the dig. Today, however, other officials arrived as well, all dressed like British judges though the colors varied according to what John assumed was their rank or station.

John gritted his teeth as he stepped forward, placing a hand on Lorne’s shoulder like Rodney did before. “Noman, this is my Second,” the name ‘Lorne’ almost came out of his mouth automatically. “Major Evan Lorne,” he finished hastily. “Evan, this is Noman, the man we’ve told you about,” he told Lorne, his first name still feeling strange to pronounce.

Lorne’s face came alight when he smiled, stepping forward to offer his hand to Noman who, after some confusion, grasped it and shook it firmly. “It’s a pleasure to be here, Noman. I’m quite excited after everything John has told me about your people,” he said brightly. John, who was breathing a little more easily now that he wasn’t so close to Lorne, struggled to hide his surprise. Lorne made it look so easy and so natural that John felt a pang of envy.

Noman laughed easily, clearly liking Lorne. “It’s me who should say that we’re excited, Major Lorne. We’ve heard you’re an artist yourself, and we’re very keen on seeing your works. My people appreciate art more than anything,” he explained, and turned to look at Keller when he noticed her checking to see if the journey on the rough ground had disturbed some of her more sensitive drugs.

“Noman, this is Doctor Keller. As a token of good will we have brought her with us along with medical supplies that we’ll continue to share between our two people,” Lorne said, stepping back to stand close to John while Keller walked forward and shook Noman’s hand as well.

“Welcome to Olam,” Noman told both Keller and Lorne. Keller nodded her thanks and smiled back at him.

“Thank you. You’ve made a good impression on John so I was looking forward to seeing what got him so excited. He’s very hard to impress,” Lorne replied warmly.

“I thank you, Major Lorne, although I’m afraid I can’t return the sentiment since I’ve only heard of your existence in passing,” Noman said, smiling apologetically. John turned away from Lorne’s questioning gaze only to notice that people were ogling at them openly. He had a bad feeling about it. Had these people never see two men who loved each other, or was it the fact that they came through the gate that had everyone so agitated? And how would they react to each of those discoveries once the shock wore off?

“Yes, I understand that my name came up by mistake,” Lorne said, and oh, what a multi-layered statement was that.

“Indeed. After I had proposed that you visit here the Colonel and Doctor McKay had a… very stern talk,” Noman seemed to share Teyla’s tendency to phrase things delicately. “I can only hope that my request didn’t cause you any inconvenience,” he added hopefully, and from what John could tell, also sincerely.

Lorne shook his head emphatically. “The inconvenience was caused by Doctor McKay, not you,” Lorne said, and John’s heart rose to his throat. What the hell was Lorne trying to do?

“Oh?” Noman gestured for them to start walking away from the gate, and after Rodney’s not so gentle push John took his place beside Lorne and Noman. 

“Yes. You see, it is inappropriate in our society to display our private emotions in public, and John is an especially private man. He dislikes showing his emotions in public so much that at the time I was afraid he’d refuse to invite our friends and family to our binding ceremony. So when Doctor McKay agreed to your request he put John in a very uncomfortable position,” Lorne explained, the words flowing from his mouth as if there was never another truth besides this one, and John had to look at him, had to see if there was any trace of the lie in his face.

There was none, but John noticed Lorne’s back turning stiff. Lorne was a model soldier, but even standing at attention his body was relaxed and fell into position with the ease of long practice and confidence. He was never this stiff, and John was surprised at himself for knowing this.

But something else was registering with him. Lorne had just provided them a way out from behaving all touchy-feely. The amount of physical contact they’d need to display would be minimal if the people of this world believe that it was inappropriate in their culture, and John had to salute Lorne for his good thinking.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. But I am happy to see that despite your inhibitions you’ll stay and help my people understand that there is no reason to treat bonds such as yours with distaste,”  Noman said in response to Lorne’s explanation, and John nearly grimaced. There was something unnerving in Noman’s confidence, and it didn’t help with the feeling of losing control that had settled over John ever since Rodney opened his big mouth.

“You have something we need, and if exposing ourselves to your people is what it takes to get it, we’ll do it,” Lorne said simply, and then turned to smile back at John, a smile that was juvenile and secretive and that John had never seen on his face before. “But I’m happy as well. John was right, I would’ve loved to come here anyway and see for myself your arts and literature,” he added pleasantly.

“Well, while Colonel Sheppard is very closed off I can see that you’re quite the opposite,” Noman clearly liked Lorne, and John was content to let Lorne steer the conversation and tuned both him and Noman out. Now that he was proclaimed as closed off he could actually behave as such without arousing suspicion, and while he never really considered himself as closed off, he didn’t want to have to pretend to feel something he didn’t.

They were going down the slope towards that covered bridge look-alike structure John had seen the day before, and when they finally reached it he saw a line of strange looking vehicles inside. If John were forced to make a comparison, he would’ve said that they resembled carriages, only without horses. They were compiled of open booths with short brown benches facing each other and small doors, but there was no room for horses or even a navigation system.

“These are our transportation devices,” a man who walked a little further ahead of them said as he caught John’s wondering gaze. He had a slender figure, pale complexion and brown hair. “Wherever we go we place these rails so that we may have easy access to our destinations,” he showed John that there were three parallel rails beneath the carts, two for each set of wheels and one for a rod that came out of the bottom of each cart.

“Really? How does it work?” Keller asked when she arrived as well. She started supervising Ronon and Rodney as they transferred the contents of the FRED into the last cart and secured it. Rodney also lifted his head with interest, but Lorne and Teyla were still talking with Noman.

“We have managed to harness several of the natural powers to our advantage,” the young man answered with evident pride. John’s brow creased in confusion. There was obviously some gap in the way they named certain things and the way these people had.

The proud expression the young man was wearing slowly died when he realized that they didn’t understand what he was talking about. “It’s when two small particles are attracted to each other or are rejecting each other?” he explained hesitantly, showing with his fists two alleged particles, and Rodney’s face lit up.

“Electricity!” he told John excitedly. “It’s blue in color, right? Comes from the sky during storms?” he asked the young man, who nodded enthusiastically. “Electricity!” Rodney and John looked at each other, impressed.

“That’s amazing,” Keller’s surprise didn’t go silent either. “I mean, we started with steam engines and later moved to coal and fuel, and this is so much cleaner!” she said, abandoning Ronon to lift one of the giant tubes in which she carried delicate semi-large instruments alone.

“I am Zamsh. Please be seated,” the man said and opened the door for them. He was wearing a replica of Noman’s clothes, only his were green and John figured he must be of Noman’s entourage and of a low rank.

John climbed into the cart first, sitting with his back to the dig and his face towards what appeared to be a large valley with high stone walls. Lorne climbed in next, and quickly squeezed himself against John to make room for Ronon and Keller while Teyla, Rodney, Noman and another unfamiliar man sat opposite them.

John tried to move back on the bench, but Lorne was still pressed hard against him and if he was to move another inch he’d probably fall. In front of him Teyla touched her shoulder and dipped her head meaningfully, and John remembered Woolsey’s demonstration.

John moved and placed his hand casually, or as casually as he could manage, on the back rest above Lorne’s shoulders and tried to look like he was busy examining the valley their little electric train was entering. In truth his hand felt so stiff he was afraid that it might fall as the carts jarred lightly while taking turns and rolling down slopes. He had been married, sure, and he knew what to do when you’re near the person you love. It was just that around Lorne, who was also a man, nothing seemed to be flowing out of him as naturally as it usually did.

Lorne’s hand came to rest on his knee and John nearly jumped back and fell out. Lorne appeared to be deeply immersed in his conversation with Noman but his fingers were digging into John’s knee and John returned his attention to the topic at hand.

Which turned out to be the upcoming elections. “So your proposal is equality in front of the law. But who’s your rival and what’s he proposing?” Keller asked curiously.

“My rival’s name is Shedim. He is a much respected representative of our world’s interests, and a fine man. But he finds the thought of two men in any sort of bond together revolting, and wants our world to make a sharp turn towards development and modernization,” Noman said gravely.

“And this is a bad thing?” John asked, the first thing he had said since introducing Lorne to Noman. As a matter of fact, John saw nothing bad about it. Quite the contrary. They had advanced technologies and this Shedim guy wanted to turn Olam into a more advanced world. It was obvious that a large portion of the population thought this idea was good or they would never have chosen him to continue on to the second round of elections.

They would have had much more impact on his cause than on Noman’s, like he had said to Woolsey during the meeting the previous evening, only now it was too late. When they came to wherever it was that they were going they would be presented as a gay couple, and that would turn Shedim against them immediately, if what Noman said was true.

The heated glare John sent in Rodney’s direction was broken by Noman’s answer to his question.

 “The recent bloom in discoveries and ideas has made many people think that maybe it’s time to change the pace of our lives and abandon our artistic heritage. Many of our people are much more interested in the advancement of science than they are in the discoveries about our past, for example.

“Shedim’s plan is to turn our society to an urban and sophisticated one, and to that end he will flood the markets with inventions, built plants for mass production and develop the cities while diminishing the size of our agricultural communities. And he plans to do all that in three years.”

Rodney sat up straighter, turning from returning John’s glare to look at Noman with disbelief. “But that’s too fast!” he protested. Somehow all those terms sounded vaguely familiar to John.

“The Industrial Revolution,” Lorne said quietly from his side, almost as if reading his mind. And there it was. It was too fast. They’d end up polluting their world, creating child labor, sicknesses and discontent.

“That’s exactly what it will be,” Noman agreed, catching Lorne’s words.

“You don’t understand. It happened on our world too. It didn’t go so well, even if it had many positive effects. People were unhappy, the weak died and the resulting pollution still impacts our planet,” Rodney said seriously.

“Are you saying that it can’t be done at all?” Noman asked, somewhat surprised.

“No. I’m saying that it needs to be gradual and you’ll need to give it much consideration and take care of every problematic aspect. It should not be done as some sort of electoral stunt to score more votes,” Rodney replied.

John had to re-evaluate his earlier thoughts. Maybe Shedim’s ambitiousness would work in their favor. It was obviously too late to join him, but they could prove to these people that the plan he proposed was dangerous to them, and with a few well placed words they could destroy him and secure Noman’s victory. Maybe it would even make the misconception about him being Lorne’s lover seem unimportant in comparison and they could stop pretending.

John was full of hope as they entered a large city where more tracks lined the ground. Someone in the first cart slowed them down using breaking pedals that were installed on the sides of each cart, and they had the time to take in the city before them.

The city was very tidy and very well organized. The houses all had uniform fronts made out of ecru stones, little gardens with blossoming flowers and trees and large windows covered with curtains. The lines of the buildings were straight and neat and little carvings decorated almost every door and windowsill.

The streets themselves were paved with taupe stones, and were wide and spacious. The rails took up only a small part of the street, and were separated from it by a fence to prevent the children that played in the streets from getting hurt. Occasionally they would see a big island of greenery and vegetation in the middle of the streets, or a fountain where yet more children played.

“These are our suburbs,” Noman said, a touch of pride in his voice. One thing was for sure, these people were proud of themselves and their achievements. Also, seeing their city John now understood the artistic tendencies. Despite the green of the vegetation most of the raw materials available to the people of Olam to build their homes with were in shades of brown, and without the decorations and the colors everywhere John imagined that the city would look extremely drab.

“How many people are in your world, Noman?” Keller asked curiously.

“Our latest reports from the office charged with health and physical care interests indicated that there are five million people in Olam,” he answered, and John raised an eyebrow at Rodney. He knew what Rodney was thinking. With such a large population these people clearly hadn’t suffered a culling in a very long time. This meant that something must have been protecting them, and it would be useful to discover what. John could only hope once more that no ZPM platforms were hidden from the eye like on M7G-677.

“Ah, here we are, arriving at the city itself,” Noman’s voice brought John back to the present, along with Lorne’s hand withdrawing from his knee at last. John thought that it might burn a hole there, he was so acutely aware of it, but when he lifted his head he saw an amazing sight.

“Welcome to Makom, our capital city.”

All around them tall, large buildings towered against the sky, the tallest being almost ten stories high. They were made out of tan stones and were surrounded with wide open windows on every floor, looking out on streets that were wider and larger than those at the suburbs. The rail they had used until now joined several others and traveled past little waiting areas (those in the city didn’t look like covered bridges) that were probably stations.

Occasionally John could see black smoke drifting out of narrow and long chimneys, places that were obviously either workshops or factories, and there were also several ventilation shafts coming from underground. There wasn’t rubbish in the streets and the few animals that could be seen – which were one horned horse and several bald dogs –looked well fed and were treated with affection by the people passing by.

Noman wasn’t exaggerating when he said that his people were artists. There was a lot of color in the form of paintings and shadings on the building themselves, and many people were seen lounging on the green islands with paintbrushes or a sketch book. And unlike the suburbs, here people turned to look at them and pointed or waved, receiving a wave back from Noman and Keller.

They passed several large complexes and Noman explained their purposes. “These are the main education centers of Makom. Here we educate our children, but also any adult who wishes to learn anything new.” Other buildings were the center of law and law enforcement, the headquarters of the peace forces, the office charged with food and water supervision and the civil registry where newborns were registered and declared in front of the Council of Law.

As they moved on, they reached a very large building that had pillars in front of its entrance and many magnificent carvings and sculptures on its eaves and door. “And this is our art museum, the place where the most remarkable works of art our people have ever produced are kept for the joy of all,” Noman said with special attention to Lorne, John noticed, and Lorne’s eyes turned to the building once more.

Lorne’s face showed his awe very clearly and his eyes practically lit up. John could see his eyes raking the building before them while the transport rolled slowly along the rail, taking in all the details and growing ever more impressed. He even turned away from Noman to lean on John’s outstretched arm and look back at the building once the transport was past it, and John wondered if Lorne was always such an open book or if he was caught off guard.

“It’s beautiful, Noman. I would very much like to go in and have a look someday,” Lorne said candidly once the building couldn’t be seen anymore, and his words seemed to satisfy Noman since he smiled and turned to point Keller to their version of a hospital and Rodney to their research labs.

John was so busy looking around him at the sights of the alien city (an uncommon sight in the Pegasus galaxy), at the people who raised curious eyes at them as they passed and at the threats that the city could harbor, that he noticed that the carts had stopped only when Lorne finally got up from his seat and John could safely return his hand to his own lap. His hand felt stiff and ached from the tension in his muscles and from the effort of leaving it over Lorne’s shoulder where John didn’t want it to be. He absently rubbed it as he, too, stepped down from the transport, and looked around.

They stood in front of a wide building with different artifacts presented on carved stone pedestals in the yard surrounding it. The building was long and only three stories high, and had large windows that were shaded by large umbrella-like trees.

“And this,” Noman said with an air of excitement, “is the office charged with seeing to the cultural and historical interests of Olam. My office.”


	4. Chapter 4

“…Only as we entered this current era of enlightenment that these bonds and the narrow interpretation of the law became a matter of public dispute. Now is the time to sattle this matter this once and for all, and guarantee that even two males in love with each other can undergo an official binding ceremony and enjoy the privileges that every other bonded couple receives from the government,” Noman concluded.

They were once again traveling on the transport (it had another name but it was too ridiculous to be used) and were heading back towards the dig site and the Stargate at the end of their first day on Olam. 

Noman had showed them the city and explained about Olam’s society, their laws and their culture. For the most part, they were a version of Earth had Earth developed without any sort of religious beliefs. They had courts to try criminals and police forces (called peace forces) to catch them. They had no army since there was only one nation in their world, but the peace forces functioned as upholders of law and rescue forces in cases of nature disasters.

They had a very developed culture, with many stories, legends and books, and the most common form of entertainment was going to a play or a concert despite them having a primitive version of a TV. Education was given freely for everyone who wanted it, as were health care and care for the elderly and the lonely.

When asked, Noman said that each of the residents of Olam pays a living tax each month, according to their status and income, and from this tax as well as from other services that the establishment provides all this is funded. For example, he said, all of the deceased’s possessions are divided between the family and the state, with sentimental items remaining with the family and the rest being the government’s to sell and repay itself for that person’s living expenses.

He had also explained in greater detail the structure of their governing body. The winning interest’s party receives sixty of the hundred seats of the Council of Law and determine which of the losing interests from the first round of elections will seat with them. This is done mostly according to the rating each group received in that round, which guarantees that the losing side would also be included in that Council.

The leader of the winning interest’s party gets elected for a period of nine years as the High Councilor. His job is to see to it that every branch of the government, like the different ministries, actually takes care of its interests and that half if not all interests are made into laws, yet he has no control over matters like budgets and taxes.

The taxes never changes since the Council has complete control over prices, though it is only allowed to intervene in cases of a financial crisis. The budgets are equal for each office, and each office must pass on any money that hadn’t been used at the end of the year to offices that used their money to the point of deficit. And since the budgets are used only to develop their world and the officials receives money only for their most basic needs such as food and clothes there is little to no corruption from that front. 

Which begged the question: how could such an allegedly developed society not allow homosexual relationships?

At this Noman had explained that his people have lived this way only for the past hundred years or so, and that until then every city was its own independent state and the rulers had the absolute power over the lives of their subjects. People lived any way they could, and there was no education and no proper law enforcing authorities, and so prejudices bloomed. The relatively small amount of time that had passed since those dark days is the cause for the negative attitude towards homosexuality since the elders of Olam, like Noman’s parents and people of that age, learned those opinions at home from their parents who lived before the revolution. Every person had a set of beliefs according to the beliefs permitted by his or hers city ruler in the past.

Noman had said that a part of the reason why their Council had such a tight hold over the lives of the citizens was to correct the damage done to society in those times, and that the end result was for better and for worse. For worse, since the government revokes the rights of any man who choses to live with another man. He said that it was the last of the prejudices that had flourished during the previous century, and that his party’s interest is to put the past completely behind them by eradicating this last remnant.

“The day has gone by so fast. Your world is beautiful,” Keller, who spent the majority of the tour talking with a man called Holim who was in charge of health and physical care interests, said with a tired smile.

“I thank you. We’re very proud of it,” Noman said warmly, and John could see exactly why. To change a medieval-like society into this in a hundred years was no small feat. It also meant that starting an industrial revolution would be the most stupid thing to do, and if they could get this point across then the victory would be Noman’s.

“Yes, yes, very nice. There’s one more thing I’m interested in the most?” Rodney cut in impatiently. John knew that Rodney wasn’t a big fan of guided tours, and wanted to finally get to the part where he had a ZPM in his hands. John wanted nothing more himself. He would also feel a lot better once they had one ZPM, but unlike Rodney he couldn’t afford not to pay attention. This was important information.

He was lucky to have Lorne around. Lorne was the responsible type, the kind you could always count on to listen and know. Everyone knew someone like him. It was the person you always begged to copy homework from in class after a night out, who would always agree to back you up when you needed to leave work early and had no one to replace you. The goody two shoes. If John didn’t understand something now, Lorne would probably explain it later.

“Yes, Doctor McKay. As I have promised, you may take one ZPM as a gesture of good faith. I know that our own medics were ecstatic with your version of good will, Doctor Keller,” Noman said to Keller, but was still amused by Rodney’s impatience. And what a refreshing sigh that was, an alien that Rodney didn’t manage to aggravate.

They reached the dig site fairly quickly, a ride of twenty minutes on the whole. John was happy to get down and finally breathe normally after being pressed against Lorne from one side and Rodney from the other. Rodney, the bastard, kept sliding against him and forcing John to squeeze against Lorne, and Lorne on his part placed his hand on the back rest above John’s shoulders and would occasionally reach up to comb his fingers through John’s hair. John jumped a little every time he did that, but Rodney glared him down the one time he was about to speak up.

“Tell me, Major Lorne, do you have this miraculous ability to open walls as well?” Noman asked curiously. Lorne looked at John wonderingly before turning back to Noman.

“Yes. Many of our people have it. Even Doctor McKay,” he replied and approached the wall. This time many other people, who turned out to be Noman’s clerks and party members, gathered around to see. From the corner of his eye John noticed several people in uniforms that belonged to the peace forces, and Rodney’s smug look as he caught his eye made him sigh. Noman wasn’t stupid, and he _had_ placed a guard on the chamber.

Lorne placed his hand on the wall and a second later they stood in front of the Ancient chamber. The people around cheered, and John smirked back at Lorne when Lorne turned around to smile at him. Lorne’s gene was almost as strong as Carson’s and John suddenly remembered that Lorne was Radek’s favorite candidate for switching duty.

Lorne led the way inside, and this time John stayed close to his side of his own volition. There was no way he was going to miss the look on Lorne’s face. And Lorne didn’t disappoint him. As soon as they entered the larger chamber Lorne stopped in his tracks, his eyes going round and his mouth opening in awe, taking in the drones and the shields and finally the ZPMs.

His hand came to clutch John’s sleeve and his voice was hoarse when he whispered, “Just imagine what we can do with all this.”

“A lot of good,” John replied, and watched together with Lorne as Rodney went over and picked up one of the ZPMs. He looked at it reverently and cradled it like a baby while Teyla took off her bag and opened it. Rodney then placed it inside the bag with infinite care, and John thought that if he was that careful with Torren then maybe Teyla would’ve let him hold Torren more often.

Noman walked to stand next to Rodney and the ZPMs, touching one with a careful hand. “It seems very important to you,” he commented. “I wish I could understand why.”

“We’ll do our best to explain it to you while we’re here, Noman. And once this is all over you’ll be welcome to visit Atlantis and see for yourself,” John said, since Lorne didn’t look like he was even listening, his eyes slowly taking the room in.

“Yes, yes, I promise,” Rodney chirped in happily, nodding his head wildly.

“I have a feeling, Doctor McKay, that while in this room you’d even promise me the sun,” Noman teased, and that made the alarms ring in John’s head. He didn’t need any more unreasonable promises on Rodney’s part that would lead to disasters.

“I have a feeling you’re right, so let’s go before he actually does it,” John said pointedly in Rodney’s direction, and Rodney sent him a guilty look. Noman merely chuckled.

After locking the chamber up again they were escorted back to the gate, where masses of workers and clerks were gathered eagerly waiting to see them dialing back home. Rodney couldn’t resist the urge to impress them and drew out the dialing dramatically until John wanted to kick him. When the wormhole finally engaged their crowd burst into cheers and hand claping, and that was the last sound they heard from Olam as they stepped through the event horizon.

As soon as they were back in Atlantis John stepped away from Lorne. He had stayed close to him as they went through but now that he was back he wanted some space. Lorne turned to him with an apologetic expression but John raised his hand to stop him.

“I might not be comfortable with it but you did good, Major,” he said before Lorne could even open his mouth. Lorne shrugged and looked at the floor.

“I don’t think ‘uncomfortable’ really begins to cover it, sir,” he countered quietly.

“Colonel, Major,” Woolsey approached them before John could say something more, followed closely by Edison, who was still in his mission gear. John remembered that he was supposed to check out some world for a potential beta site. Their last one was overrun with creepy flying alligator-like lizards. 

“I take it the mission-” Woolsey stopped abruptly when Rodney took the new ZPM out of Teyla’s bag and proudly displayed it.

“Fully charged,” Rodney sing-songed at Woolsey and Woolsey nodded his head at him, his eyes shining behind his glasses.

“That was a job well done,” he turned around to include all of them in his praise. “All of you.”

Edison also didn’t save his breath. “Is that a real ZPM, Doc? You really did manage to get it after all?” he asked excitedly, reaching out his hand to touch it with great care. Probably being so careful because Rodney looked like he might bite his hand off if Edison would so much as breathe in the wrong direction.

“Yes!” Rodney said happily, finally giving in to temptation and pulling the ZPM close and away from Woolsey’s and Edison’s hands. “I’m going to find Radek. Oh, I wish I had a camera right now! The expression on his face is going to be priceless!” he exclaimed gleefully and with a last glance towards Keller he was gone, so fast that John knew for sure that their working out together had paid off.

“I take it that Doctor McKay won’t be joining our post mission debriefing,” Woolsey said, his voice resigned. Edison next to him was still bouncing happily.

“That’s such good news, sirs!” Edison said exuberantly. He was a young and promising officer and was already in command of his own team. “And I might have another bit of good news, though not as exciting as this,” he added and took out a bag full of rocks from one of his vest pockets. “Sir, please tell me this is what I think it is. I vaguely remember it from my time at the SGC but I thought I’d confirm my theory first,” he addressed Lorne, handing him a large rock.

To John the rock looked just like any other rock: gray and lumpy, uneven and full of craters and sharp spikes. There seemed to be nothing interesting about it, but Lorne’s face suddenly lit up.

“Where did you find it?” he asked Edison urgently.

Edison grinned, clearly smug. “So it is what I think it is?” he asked proudly.

“Yes,” Lorne confirmed and raised his eyes to Woolsey. “Mr. Woolsey, this is Naquadah. And where ever Edison got it from could have much more,” he told Woolsey excitedly. John looked at the stone once more. Naquadah?

“Yes, Captain Edison informed me of it. I’m happy that you’ve verified his suspicion,” Woolsey nodded once again, clearly satisfied with the day’s achievements. There might not be any Ori left to fight but Naquadah was always welcomed, John knew. “Is there anyone on Atlantis who can evaluate M5R-037 as a potential mining site?”

Lorne shook his head. “We have seismologists, but there aren’t any geologists on Atlantis. And the seismology team doesn’t have the necessary skills,” he answered.

“Very well. I’ll ask the SGC to send us a geologist on the next Deadalus trip,” Woolsey concluded, but Lorne shook his head.

“Mr. Woolsey sir, it’s a wasted effort. As long as Midway isn’t completed it’ll take three weeks for the geologist to arrive and another six weeks until a mining team could be sent. I may not be a geologist, but even a mining engineer can perform a geologic survey. I can determine the potential of the planet and if there’s a chance that we can establish a mining operation there we can send for the crew right away,” Lorne said, holding up the rock for emphasis.

Woolsey looked skeptic. “Are you sure you want to go out there, Major? You need to escort Colonel Sheppard’s team back to M1M-995 tomorrow as well. I think that if the Naquadah has waited for ten thousand years it can suffer a delay of two more months,” he said, his voice loaded with meanings.

Lorne looked almost too eager to go. “I can save everyone the hassle, and it shouldn’t take very long, right, Edison?” he turned to Edison, who was following the exchange with rapt attention.

“The place where I found the rocks was no further than three klicks from the gate,” Edison replied readily.

“Not very far,” Lorne shrugged. “Besides, how often do we find a deserted planet with Naquadah where we don’t have to trade or negotiate to get permission to mine?”

Woolsey sighed, silent for a long moment. John himself didn’t care much if Lorne went or not. They had done nothing tiring today and could use some space. The choice was Lorne’s.

“Okay, Major. Just stay in radio contact,” Woolsey agreed, and Lorne departed to borrow some equipment from the seismology team with a quick nod in John’s direction.

“Colonel?” Woolsey asked, waking John from staring after Lorne and gesturing towards the briefing room.

Looking back at Teyla and Ronon, John nodded and followed Woolsey up.

“They bought it, I think. We didn’t really do anything except give them Keller’s medications to study. We got the guided tour, learned a little about the place and received a ZPM,” John said once the doors were closed.

“And are they really as advanced as you thought?”

“More, probably. They are about the same level of advancement as the Genii, only they are not focused on spying and building nukes,” John grimaced. All dealings with the Genii so far had left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

“And what are you expected to do?” Woolsey asked meaningfully, folding his fingers on the table, and John knew exactly what he was hinting at. It was a relief to disprove him.

“Before the elections there’s a public debate that takes place between the two competing parties, and this debate is broadcast to everyone who wants to see on some sort of a primitive television. That’s how the people are supposed to decide on whom to vote for. Apparently we’re supposed to represent Noman’s side in this debate and explain our cause,” John explained.

“And the opposing side’s cause?” Woolsey continued to ask, and Teyla helped John answer all of his questions while Ronon contributed a sentence here and there.

~o~o~o~o~

John entered Rodney’s lab later that evening to find Radek filling his fourth blackboard with calculations and Rodney busy running simulations and smiling like a madman.

“I see you’ve already settled in for the night,” John said loudly when neither of the scientists seemed to notice his presence, and caused Radek to scribble over himself and Rodney to jump out of his chair. John smiled, feeling smug when the two of them turned to glare at him.

“Actually there’s nothing here we haven’t anticipated,” surprisingly, Rodney didn’t sound as thrilled as he had been that morning.

“Well, after your earlier excitement I figured we’d have at least a few extra jiggawatts to use,” John shrugged, thoroughly enjoying the annoyed expression that crossed Rodney’s face.

“Yes, well, this is a city not a fictional car, so a few extra jiggawatts wouldn’t really help,” he told John primly, shutting down his simulations.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Every device, every gadget in this city, can only use a predetermined level of power. An additional ZedPM won’t make the lights go brighter or the city fly faster, for example.”

“So it doesn’t, for example, give the shield an extra boost?”

“Not really, no.”

“If it doesn’t help then why do we need to go to all this trouble to get it?” John asked, irritated. If one ZPM was enough then this whole ridiculous pretense was unnecessary.

“Because they can store much more energy.”

“What do we need the extra energy for if it doesn’t strengthen the city!?”

“I never said that everything in the city is running on full power. The star-drive isn’t, for example, but the fact that one ZedPM is not enough for it to pull the city into space doesn’t mean that five ZedPMs would make us travel faster. And when you have three ZedPMs the power doesn’t drain from one after the other, they each contribute something and so they last longer. They can also create a controlled feedback loop which produces energy and recharge up to 20% of their power. The power is being used more efficiently than putting all the strain on a single ZedPM,” Rodney explained

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” John looked at him, still irritated. It was even worse than project Arcturus. There at least Rodney did what he did because it could have given them an advantage they didn’t have before. Finding out now that the ZPMs wouldn’t make things much different, only last longer, was still good to hear but also something of a disappointment.

John shook himself out of such thoughts and remembered why he came to see Rodney. “I’ve been thinking,” John began, and Rodney and Radek both looked at each other warily.

“Do we need to put on our combat gear?” Radek asked, only half kidding. John glared at him until he shrugged and returned to working on his equations. Radek was spending too much time with Rodney, in John’s opinion, conveniently forgetting all the mad plans he had thought about in the past. Rodney smiled at his laptop screen where he was writing down something complicated about his simulation that John would never understand.

“I’ve been thinking. If we can get them to see that such a hurried transition to an industrialized society is bad, Noman could win the elections and that whole Lorne issue would be pushed aside,” John said hopefully.

Rodney looked up at him skeptically. “You can weaken the rival’s argument, but you’d still need to make our argument as compelling as possible in order to win,” he reminded John.

“Well, yeah, that’s true. But all I’m saying is that we can shift the focus away from the whole gay revolution they have going,” John insisted. It was a relief that the only other person in the room was Radek, who was a member of the senior staff and thus already knew what was going on.

Rodney turned to look at him fully. “What do you have against Lorne? It’s not that hard to pretend to be his lover, and after what he said all you have to do is show a little kindness and care. It’s not all that difficult,” he said, surprising John to the core.

“What do I have against him? What do you have _for_ him?” John asked incredulously in return. Rodney didn’t even know Lorne, how could he start preaching John about being nice to the man!?

“I have nothing for him. I’m just saying that he’s an okay sort of person,” Rodney said defensively.

“’An okay person’?” John echoed, quite sure that he’d missed something. “How would you even know?”

“I talk to him on occasion,” Rodney said, huffing at him.

“You do?” John asked skeptically. “Since when?”

“Since we went to P3M-736.”

“The planet where we found Ronon?”

“Yes.”

John looked at Rodney, suspicious now. As far as he remembered, Rodney was kidnapped by Ford and Lorne got stunned by a Wraith stunner. Not much room for introduction there. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, sure that Rodney was saying it only to convince him to go along with his stupidest ever idea.

“After we returned I came to him to demand an apology for his rude behavior towards me, and we apologized to each other. Besides, he’s best friends with Radek and is pretty close to Carson as well. And since _I’m_ working close to Radek and am pretty close to Carson myself we got to see each other here and there,” Rodney shrugged.

John was now sure that Rodney was lying. “You? Apologizing? I don’t like it when people lie to me, Rodney,” he warned.

“I’m not!” Rodney cried out indignantly. “And yes, I apologized to him and he to me. Contrary to what you think, I have other friends outside of the team!”

This was escalating to a true fight. “Really?” John said, not at all convinced. “What’s his first name?”

“Evan,” Rodney replied without a hitch. John gaped at him openly. It took Rodney six months to remember Radek’s last name and while yes, Rodney could have asked Lorne about his name John doubted that he would remember it this long.

“That’s… correct,” John finally said.

“Of course it is,” Rodney said angrily. “He’s actually very bright for a military goon. Even remembers his college physics,” he added pointedly. From Rodney’s mouth that was like saying that a person could count to ten, which was a rare compliment considering Rodney thought most people were brainless idiots. “Which brings me back to my original question, what do you have against him? You keep trying to find a way out of this when all you have to do is pretend that you don’t spend most of your time calling each other ‘sir’ and ‘Lorne’,” Rodney continued.

“Yes, I’m trying to get out of the mess _you got me into_,” John snapped back, not even trying to resist the urge to remind Rodney how everything was his fault. “My career is in danger here, Rodney, and so is his, so you’ll forgive me if I try to look for alternate ways to get what we want,” John said cuttingly.

“Nobody is going to know!” Rodney was almost yelling in frustration. “And besides, how else were you planning on getting those ZedPMs!?”

“Well, we’ll never know now, will we? And what do we need the ZPMs for when they don’t even boost anything up? We’re not planning on flying to another world anytime soon so I think we can suffer the star-drive not operating at full strength!”

“Why? Hmm… let’s see…” Rodney pretended to be thinking really hard, but his eyes were shining with anger. “Oh! Maybe because at any moment now the Wraith may come and besiege Atlantis again and if we had only the one ZedPM we wouldn’t be able to hold out a week against them!? Not to mention what will happen if another freak accident like the one that had brought Rod here occurred!”

John glared at Rodney and Rodney glared back, both quiet for a while, before John dropped his head into his hand. This was pointless. He had already agreed to do what Rodney has volunteered him for and Rodney was right. John was being unnecessarily stubborn and kept bucking up. There was no point in fighting anymore.

“Look, I know that this is very far from ideal, but I was taking what could have been our only chance to get the ZedPMs,” Rodney said, voice low and urgent. “We can’t gamble on our ability to prove to them that the other guy’s idea is insane because we don’t know how well the public will take to that, they don’t exactly perform polls. We need to combine the two and hope that it’s enough. And Lorne is a nice guy, just try to get to know him and you’ll see for yourself.”

John looked at his friend once more, trying to remind himself that he trusted Rodney with his life. It brought him little comfort since Rodney outdid himself usually only under threat of death. Instead all he could think about was how bizarre it was to hear Rodney talk about someone else being nice.

“This is even more complicated than wormhole drive!” Radek’s frustrated cry interrupted them.

“That’s because you’re doing it wrong,” Rodney replied irritably, but it was the same irritation he felt for anyone who proved to be outstandingly incompetent, John could tell.

“You’re not even looking!” Radek protested

“I don’t need to look to know that you’re doing it wrong.”

“If you’re so smart why don’t you come here and work it out yourself!?”

“Fine. Here, see? You’ve made a mistake!”

“I did not! If you run it through this algorithm you’ll get the same result!”

“No I won’t.”

“Why!?”

“Because I’m me and you’re you…”

~o~o~o~o~

John looked at his chronometer for the third time that morning. Lorne was-

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Lorne said as he came into the gate room.

Late.

And looked awful.

His hair was damp and sticking out in strange cowlicks almost like John’s and his cheeks and chin still shining with the last vestiges of aftershave. He had clearly grabbed a quick shower before coming there. Despite that, however, his eyes were bloodshot, there were dark circles under his eyes and his entire expression spoke of fatigue.

“You look terrible,” John said before he could even think about it. Lorne sent him a tired look and a faint smile.

“Gee, thanks,” he said sardonically. Keller hit John’s arm lightly as she was helped by Ronon out of her backpack, and took out some eye drops and a small comb.

“Tilt your head up,” she ordered Lorne as she came to stand beside him, and Lorne obliged. She drizzled the drops into his eyes and ordered him to stay with his head back while she quickly combed his hair, creating a neat parting on the side.

“What happened?” John asked in the meantime.

“I went back with Edison and there was Naquada on that planet alright. But the further we went from the gate the thicker the vein grew. We wouldn’t even need to dig deep in order to get it, its almost rolling on the ground there,” Lorne smiled suddenly. “I can’t be sure but I think that the concentration could amount to 500 parts per million,” he said proudly, which told John absolutely nothing. Looking back at Rodney, he noticed that Rodney wasn’t even paying attention but arguing with Radek over some result on Radek’s computer tablet.

“What time did you get back here?” John asked Lorne instead.

“Around 0500 Atlantis standard time,” Lorne replied, finally straightening up and opening eyes that were considerably less bloodshot. If he got back around that time, he’d had only three hours of sleep.

“A little late, considering the time we’re due to leave,” John said with just an edge of anger. The truth was he should have noticed Lorne’s absence and recalled him.

“I know that, sir. But it was very exciting. I think we even found an Ancient mining facility, or what’s left of it. It was through it that I managed to get to the deeper parts of the deposit,” Lorne said, and that got through to Radek and Rodney.

“Really?” Rodney said, dumping the computer tablet in Radek’s hands. “We’ve always wondered where the Ancients found the Naquadah to build all these gates!” he said excitedly. Lorne smiled proudly.

“I’ve already asked for Woolsey to pass on the relevant data in the next outgoing data-burst and they should bring a mining team here in three weeks to-”

“Yeah, yeah. They’ll get here, they’ll mine it, Washington will be happy. Now let’s go and make them even happier,” John interrupted what could have been a geek talk on a roll. Rodney and Lorne shrugged and stood in position while John gave the signal to dial M1M-995.

They stepped through, Lorne coming closer to John just before entering the event horizon, and coming out by his side almost as if that was where he belonged.

“Welcome back,” Noman greeted them, his usual entourage standing by his side and the usual crowd of workers scattered around. John noticed that the site of the gate was slowly turning to something else, and realized that they planned on digging out the hill so that the gate could stand in the open. It was good for them because that meant that they could come using a Jumper, but one look around him made it clear that the purpose of making more room was not for their comfort.

Many people, people John had never seen before, were gathered around the gate and were gawking at them as the wormhole disengaged behind their backs. They weren’t wearing the loose outfits of the archeologists or the long capes of state officers, and they caused John to feel a little cornered.

“Do not be alarmed. These people came to see the Ring of the Ancestors being used, they won’t cause you any harm,” Noman noticed John’s anxiety, and when John turned to look at Lorne he could see that Lorne was tense as well. “Regardless of their intentions, a squadron of peace forces is here to make sure that order is maintained,” he added, pointing to men and women in dark yellow uniforms who were keeping the crowd in place.

Despite the security, and Ronon and Teyla’s obvious defensive position around John, Rodney, Keller and Lorne, John felt much better once they were out of the small space and the crowd around them was not so close.

“Major, you seem tired,” one of the archeologists they’d met before but whose name John couldn’t remember (Hafir or something) commented politely as he approached their group. He was obviously excited about something and his comment was made only to start a conversation. If John wasn’t confusing him with someone else, he was heading the excavation near the gate, and despite his young age was very well respected by the people of Olam. He looked very bookish to John, gentle and shy in nature and dedicated to his work.

“I am,” Lorne admitted. “John, the bastard, kept me up all night,” he lied smoothly, stretching his back as if trying to release all the kinks, and John nearly chocked. He had to applaud Lorne’s inventiveness though, and couldn’t help but smirk at him. His second in command just proved himself to be more than the uptight officer John had always thought he was.

The others couldn’t hide their reactions as well as John. Rodney looked sharply at him, Keller gave a muffled giggle, Teyla ducked her head to hide a smile and Ronon openly grinned. The crowd around them erupted into murmurs.

The excavation’s director looked flustered after hearing that as well, and was quick to change the subject. “I wish to show you an artifact that was discovered in the dig site after you left,” he said hurriedly, looking mostly at Rodney and Keller rather than at John and Lorne. He handed Rodney a stone tablet that was covered in Ancient writings.

Rodney took it and looked at it excitedly. “This is Ancient,” he told John and Lorne unnecessarily. “Can you read it?” he asked the excavation’s director, who nodded.

“The language appears to be a derivation of our own, though the dialect is very old and the words have not been used in a long time. But basically it tells about the Ring of the Ancestors,” the director replied.

John accepted the tablet from Rodney. “He’s right,” Rodney said. “It tells about the function of the Stargate, about how the Ancients have started exploring this galaxy and how the gate works,” he explained, eyes running over the tablet as John turned it towards him. It was heavy and gray, and the familiar Ancients words were only decipherable because of the indents they made into the stone. It was clear that the tablet had seen better days and that the indents were once filled with black paint, or something similar.

It always got to John, why did a race as advanced as the Ancients even bothered with stone tablets and stone carvings when they had the technology and tools to create things that lasted ten thousand years unharmed?

“All that technology, all those advancements and they still insisted on carving everything into stone,” Lorne said beside him, echoing John’s thoughts.

“I was just thinking that,” John told him, surprised, and Lorne smiled briefly.

“Not that I’m complaining. It helped us a lot in the Milky Way, but still,” Lorne shrugged and was about to add something when Rodney interrupted.

“Recognize this?” he asked, pointing to a line where what was clearly a gate address was written.

John did. “That’s the Atlantis address, or at least, it was before we left that planet,” he said, his interest piqued.

“Yes, the tablet does mention that this used to be the home of the Ancestors. There are several others in here as well,” the excavation’s director, who stood close by, interjected tentatively.

John looked at the tablet along with Rodney, Teyla and Lorne. “That’s M5S-768,” Rodney said.

“Doesn’t really do you any good. It was destroyed by a race of machines called the Replicators,” Lorne told Noman and his company.

“And that’s M7G-677, a nice planet for anyone who likes kids,” John pointed to another address. “And that’s Dagan. You don’t want to go there. Crawling with Genii spies and strange folks,” he added when another address caught his eye.

 “That’s Doranda,” Rodney said. “Completely destroyed by now,” he added with a wince.

“And Taranis. A volcano erupted there, swallowing the gate.”

“M4D-058. It should be relatively safe to visit there, now that they’re not at war with each other.”

“Talus. A Wraith stronghold.”

Noman and the excavation’s director exchanged a loaded look. “I see that you’ve traveled the galaxy,” Noman interrupted them, and John turned to him and nodded.

“Yes. We have. With this you can travel anywhere you want,” he handed the tablet back to one of the archeologists standing nearby. Rodney, unfortunately, was right. They could figure out how to work the gate themselves. “But this tablet was written ten thousand years ago and things have changed since then. We can tell you where it’s safe to go, where you’ll be welcomed, and which planets are at your level of advancement,” he stressed while Noman motioned them towards the electric transport.

“Yes. We have discussed it before. Your help would be much appreciated, as we plan on sending teams through the Ring like you do once the elections are over with,” Noman said.

“We will gladly offer this to you,” Teyla said before climbing to one of the carts. John climbed after Lorne into their cart and noticed that there were many more carts today than yesterday, and that the crowd that came to gawk at them was also boarding the same transport. Luckily, though, their cart had a sort of partition that hid them from the rest of the travelers and John could almost relax against Lorne as they started the journey to the city.

Until, at least, Lorne’s head came to rest on his shoulder. John was about to hiss at him that there was no need to get carried away with the pretence when he saw that Lorne had fallen asleep, the soft puffs of air from his nose against the skin of John’s neck almost lost in the roar of wind from the travel.

John felt pity on him. It was partly his fault that Lorne was this worn out. He should have called Lorne and Edison back after seeing that it was late and they weren’t back yet. No amount of Naquadah was more important that a ZPM, though John knew that Lorne might have simply needed some space too after their return from Olam. 

John placed his arm on Lorne’s shoulders and readjusted his position, unintentionally bringing Lorne’s face to burrow deeper into his neck. But it was necessary since Lorne was sitting at the edge of the cart and could fall off if he leaned the wrong way. It was best that he’d be as alert as possible when they arrived, so John let him sleep.

John turned back to the conversation that was taking place between Rodney, Teyla and Noman, about the Wraith and why Atlantis was fighting them when Noman looked up at him and winked. John turned his eyes down again and gritted his teeth so as not to throw a venomous comment at him, cursing himself, Lorne and Rodney for this current predicament.

He knew that it was for the best to let them think what they wanted, but it wasn’t really what John needed at the moment, having someone look at him with a ‘knowing’ look when they actually knew next to nothing.

John heaved a quiet sigh, and then took another sniff. There was a pleasant scent in the air, of cleanliness and some herbal mixture, and John sniffed a few more times before determining that it came from Lorne. The scent of his shampoo and aftershave he realized, and found himself sticking his nose into Lorne’s hair to try and determine which was which.

When he looked up again, deciding that the herbal was the shampoo and the cleanliness was the aftershave, the entire cart’s occupants were looking at him with varying degrees of wonderment. John hung his head in defeat, knowing that no one would see that he was only preventing a sleeping team member from falling off the speeding transport, and allowed the conversation to flow right over his and Lorne’s heads.

~o~o~o~o~

“Evan, wake up,” John said, only barely keeping back the sharp ‘Lorne!’ he would have used had this been the field. The suburbs were slowly morphing into the capital city and they were going to reach their destination at any moment.

The trip took a lot longer than before, mostly because the transport stopped at a lot of stations it hadn’t before to unload the crowds of gawking people who had come to watch the gate and the ‘aliens’. John figured that it was a good thing since it had allowed Lorne to sleep almost an entire hour, which was bound to make him look a little more presentable and sharp. As far as John was concerned, dangers lurked at every corner. He’d heard of the things they did to gays on Earth, and was not keen on experiencing them first hand here on Olam.

The longer journey was good for another reason. With Lorne nestled against John’s side – and he was nestled, he had put his hands around John’s waist at some point – they presented an unusual sight for the many pedestrians and residents of the suburbs. Most of them stood close to the safety fence and watched with evident fascination at John holding a sleeping man in his arms, their apparent anonymity from yesterday gone.

John knew that it was good to be seen like that since it would help their case, but was also grateful that Lorne was asleep and not awake and conscious to take part as well. Somehow it was easier when he wasn’t.

“Evan,” John said, shaking Lorne slightly. “We’re there.”

Lorne’s eyes opened slowly, staring confusedly at John. From this close up his eyes were blue-gray and deep from sleep. He blinked, disoriented for a moment, before recognition came to him and his pupils shrank a little in awareness.

“Sorry,” he said somewhat hoarsely, and John could almost hear the unspoken ‘sir’. He withdrew from John quickly and took a look around, and John instantly missed the warmth at his side when the wind blew cold and sharp against him. “The sleep helped a lot,” he added sheepishly.

“You’ve been asleep for almost an hour,” Keller said, her eyes examining Lorne critically.

“Indeed. In the mean time your teammates have explained to me a lot about your world and your home-world Earth. It sounds fascinating,” Noman said enthusiastically, and Lorne turned to John with a raised eyebrow.

“Woolsey’s orders,” John said shortly, trusting Lorne to understand. It was true. Woolsey had said that the best policy was to be honest, especially if there was a chance that the people of Olam could learn how to operate the gate on their own. Which they had.

The transport started slowing down in front of Noman’s office and pulled to a complete stop at the station, where a tall man was standing. He was thin and blonde, with green eyes and a well-trimmed beard. He too wore the formal robes of state officials, with the exact same color scheme as Noman.

John looked from the man standing on the platform with an unpleasant expression on his face to Noman, and realized that something was wrong according to Noman’s own wary expression.

But Noman collected himself fairly quick and greeted the newcomer with distant respect. “Shedim,” he said, dipping his head, and both John and Lorne turned back to look at the man who turned out to be Noman’s political rival.


	5. Chapter 5

Shedim didn’t bother with pleasantries. “I don’t believe for a moment that these two aliens share your perverted tendencies,” he told Noman, nodding his head at Rodney and Ronon instead of John and Lorne, and then stalked away. Rodney looked behind him almost as if expecting Shedim to have been talking to someone else, and his eyes went round when all he saw was Ronon frowning back at him.

It could have been a nice retribution, if not for Noman’s concerned face. “I was afraid of that,” was all he said, however, as he dismounted and led the way to his office across the street.

Noman’s office was quite spacious. Most of one wall was taken up by a large map of Olam, which showed Olam to have only one small continent the size of Australia and a lot of ocean around it. Another wall held a large window and two others hosted a vast library. Many artifacts were placed around the office in particular and inside the building in general, including an interesting Ancient pattern like that John had over his bed that was placed inside a large table made out of glass.

Noman motioned for them to take a seat, but remained standing himself when one of his clerks came into the office and whispered something in his ear before departing quickly.

“What’s going on?” Lorne asked when Noman turned back to them.

“Shedim doesn’t believe that you,” he addressed Lorne, “are Colonel Sheppard’s Second,” he stated.

_That makes two of us_, John thought wearily. As if things weren’t complicated enough as it was.

“He is going to try and discredit you the best he can during the debate. Also, he’s going to place spies around you. You can’t trust anyone that is not from my entourage,” Noman said urgently, and John rose to his feet.

Sure, the situation was complicated, but just when did it became _this_ complicated!? “Now wait just a minute. What do you mean he’s going to put spies around us!?” John asked angrily. His mind was already translating this curveball into implications. It would mean that he and Lorne would have to upgrade their pretense, and keep a tight watch on their tongues. And damnit, how do you pretend to love another man in front of the rival’s spies when you’re not gay!?

“I am sorry, Colonel,” Noman looked surprised at John’s outburst. “But we have no laws that forbid the candidates from spying on each other.”

John wanted to punch something. “Then you should make ones!” he practically snarled. “If you’re so big on human rights, what about the right for privacy!?”

Noman looked at him, brow crinkling. “While I understand that you might not be accustomed to it, I hardly see the problem, Colonel. Whatever information you’re relaying to me will eventually be shared with the people of Olam. Either way you have nothing to hide.”

Lorne got up as well, placing a heavy hand on John’s shoulder to remind him to watch his mouth before he said something he’d regret later. “We’re very private people, Noman. John doesn’t like being spied on, and neither do I,” Lorne said, a certain coldness in his voice that he had never before used when talking to Noman.

Noman sighed, somber. “I apologize for this. I expected this to happen and forgot that things might not be the same on your world,” he said, dipping his head, and right at that moment the dangers of them being uncovered seemed to outweigh the potential harm that stealing the ZPMs would do.

But with or without their help, the people of Olam had been left with instructions on how to activate the Stargate. It wouldn’t be long before they ran into one of the Coalition’s traders on another planet.

A warm hand covered John’s tightly clenched fist, drawing him away from his musings. John looked and saw Lorne’s profile next to him and Lorne’s hand covering his fist. It wasn’t that John minded physical contact, be it male or female, it was that he minded when he was forced to do it. And god alone knew how Lorne must be feeling about it.

“So what do we do?” Lorne asked, a little frown creating a single crease between his expressive eyebrows.

“Every day there’s a single debate session, which lasts about… uh… thirty of your minutes. Every day a different side starts the debate, and is allowed to choose the subject of the session and the representatives to debate it,” Noman explained. “Today it’s my turn,” he added with a touch of careful hope.

John looked at him resentfully, not really feeling cheered by the knowledge. He was still stuck on the spies part.

“I don’t really think you understand what these elections means to us, Colonel,” Noman said seriously when he saw that John wasn’t resuming his seat.

“You’re right. Maybe I don’t,” John said bitingly, doing his best to restrain himself from reacting in a much more severe way.

“There have been several big advances towards a modern and righteous society since we made the decision to unite the different cities and regions that existed as separate entities during our dark days. Most of them have been in the fields of technology, education and health care, and it was only recently that we’ve begun approaching the subject of human rights,” Noman explained.

“The reason the current elections are so tense, and the reason why every side is so determined to win, is that now that we’ve nearly finished rectifying our dark days any new interest to be offered will define how our society will look in the future. Both interests have the potential to do so, but only one can win. The person whose interest will win, beyond the implications he will have on our history, will have fulfilled his purpose in taking a position as an official,” Noman concluded. “So you can see why-”

A knock on the door interrupted Noman’s words and Noman’s personal assistant Zamsh (or so John thought he was called) peaked inside. It was the same man who had explained how the transport worked to John, Keller and Rodney the other day. “It’s time,” he said, nodding to all of them the way people tended to do on this planet.

“Thank you, Zamsh,” Noman told the other man, and turned back to them. “We need to go now, the debate is about to start,” he said, sending one last look towards John and Lorne. “I will not force anything on you, but you need to make a decision. Being late for a debate is as good as forfeiting it.”

Lorne’s hand squeezed John’s and before John could even look at him, he took a step forward and answered on behalf of them both. “We’ll do it. But on the condition that there will be no more surprises from now on. If you have anything else to tell us, we’ll talk about it after the debate,” Lorne said, serious.

“I will,” Noman promised in response, and led them out of the room.

~o~o~o~o~

The debate took place in what looked like a Greek amphitheater, only square with three sides. An audience looked down up the main stage, and the entire front row was taken up by complicated black machineries which, they were told, were responsible for broadcasting the debate everywhere in Olam.

The two rival parties sat on opposite sides, and the third, bridging side was taken by people who wore yellow and were considered neutral parties. Their job was to keep the order during the debate and to uphold the laws so that no side had an advantage over the other. 

When John and Lorne came in, along with the rest of the team and Noman’s entourage, the entire room went so quiet John thought he would hear a pin dropping. Everywhere people gawked at them with varying degrees of friendliness. Some were curious, some were smiling warmly and some, John was concerned to notice, was looking down right revolted by their presence. It was a relief to sit down and escape the hostile attention when Noman led the way to a row of empty seats that were reserved from them.

The debate, however, seemed to start officially only when one of the oldest people who sat amongst the neutral observers rose from his seat and the attention shifted to him. “We are not here to question. We are not here to take sides. We are not here to say who’s right. We are not here to say who’s wrong. We are here to uphold the law,” the old man’s voice was clear and strong despite his long white hair and wrinkled face.

“Every debate starts with the renewal of the Five Oaths the neutral observers have taken upon themselves. From the moment the doors close and until those words are said no one is allowed to speak,” Noman explained shortly while he beckoned all of them to stand up again. Descending down towards the raised podium at the center of the amphitheater, Noman urged John’s team, Keller and Lorne to stand beside him and bowed.

John never liked amphitheaters, mostly because he had always believed that a stage should put you above everyone, not let them look down upon you.

“Honorable people, allow me to introduce these aliens, who traveled to meet us using the Ring of the Ancestors. They come from a galaxy far away, called in their tongue the Milky Way, and now reside in the wondrous city of the Ancestors, Atlantis. They are here at my request, to help our society move forward and be like the fair society that they come from,” Noman said formally, looking up and around him and seeming completely at ease.

“I shall make the introductions quickly,” Noman said, and John could suddenly see a sort of countdown on the wall behind the neutral observers in what looked like Ancient, probably counting down the time to the end of the debate. “This is Doctor Jennifer Keller, who is responsible for the health and care of her people,” he indicated Keller.

“Doctor Rodney McKay, a scientist,” Rodney waved a hand at the people looking down at him. “Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagen, who came from planets here in our own galaxy and have joined forces with our visitors in order to fight the Wraith, the mythological enemy of the Ancestors.”

He finally moved on to John and Lorne. “And these are Colonel John Sheppard and his Second, Major Evan Lorne,” he introduced them both, and Lorne stepped closer to John. After that, Noman and the rest of John’s team left John alone with Lorne on the stage, going up and retaking their seats to watch.

Leaving them alone. With no clue as to what to say.

John heard Lorne take a deep breath, and then Lorne moved forward. “Hi,” Lorne began, the nervousness clear in his voice. “Like Noman said, I’m Major Evan Lorne, John’s Second-”

And had to stop because one side of the hall erupted in laughter. Amazed and nervous, John looked at Lorne and silently passed on the question, what the hell was so funny?

Lorne looked back at him just as lost as John felt, so John moved forward. “I was unaware that Evan had said something funny,” he said sharply over the roars of laughter. He had half a mind to turn around and simply walk away, and it was only Rodney’s voice in his head reciting ‘three ZedPMs and six thousand drones’ that kept him in place.

“Forgive us, dear aliens,” someone said, and when John turned to look he saw Shedim wiping tears from his eyes. Somehow John had a hard time believing he was actually apologizing or that they were actually dear to him. “But what you have said was funny, indeed.”

John didn’t really want to cooperate with him, didn’t really want to be there at all, but he had to. “How so?” he asked, offended.

“Well, we have always believed that when two men engage in this kind of perversion the Second is the weaker one,” Shedim explained, a note of victory in his voice.

John felt his anger rise. Sure, Lorne was more buff than he was, but he was taller. And he could take Lorne on with one hand behind his back.

“It has nothing to do with physical traits, sir,” Lorne said before John could even start compiling a scathing reply. “It has to do with personal preferences. I like being penetrated, and John likes to penetrate. Therefore, I’m John’s Second,” he said coolly, once again taking John by surprise with his bluntness, but John was getting used to it. After the effect Lorne’s words had had on the people at the dig site, he had come to appreciate his XO’s acting skills.

“And I shall repeat my earlier words. I do not believe that you are his Second. I can’t argue with the fact that you’ve come through the Ring since many people saw you there. But I can and will argue about you being a bonded couple,” Shedim said with equal bluntness.

“Because you believe that I should be Evan’s Second?” John asked angrily.

“Because being someone’s Second indicates feeling love towards that person, and in such a perverted physical relationship that two men such as you share love plays no part,” Shedim explained. “Only twisted physical attraction.”

And that was the moment John had an idea. He stepped forward and put a hand on Lorne’s shoulder to hold off any further arguments from him. Lorne looked ready to kill, and John had had only a short moment to be concerned at the swiftness with which his anger was ignited. “Have you ever been in love, Shedim?” John asked coolly.

“I have four children and been bonded to my Second, Meshi, for twenty years, so I imagine I have,” Shedim answered from his seat.

“So you know what it feels like to wake up next to someone and feel truly happy. To look at someone and feel completely vulnerable. To know that that someone could level you with his eyes,” John’s hand reached out to Lorne’s for the sake of their pretence. “To feel like someone put an angel just for you who could rescue you from the depths of hell. To feel like you love him more than anything. More than life itself,” he quoted, doing his best to sound profound and keep the smirk off his face.

Against his shoulder he could feel Lorne stiffening with utter shock, but so was Shedim and that was all that mattered. “That’s how I love Evan,” he added to rub the salt in. “Now, we can continue talking about Evan and me, or we can tell you about our society,” he added pointedly.

Which seemed to wake Shedim up. “And what makes you so sure that your society is what Olam would want as a role model?” he asked vehemently.

Lorne looked contemplatively at Shedim. “You know, we were once like you, too,” he said, thoughtful. The room seems to hold its breath.

“Like me how?” Shedim frowned, clearly not liking any similarities between himself or his people and Lorne. John felt his annoyance surge at that.

“Our society was once like your society. Same sex couples weren’t accepted once, considered abnormal and revolting,” Lorne clarified and waited. The silence in the room was so absolute, John could hear Lorne breathing. Shedim refused to rise to the bait. However, the curiosity Lorne’s words kindled was too much for other people, because a voice in the back soon spoke.

“So what has changed?”

Shedim rounded on the person, clearly displeased, but Lorne was already answering. “Our elders and the wise men amongst our people have come to realize that this is not something that can be changed. This tendency is inborn in some people, just as the tendency to love both genders is, or the tendency not to feel attraction to any gender at all. Otherwise, the social pressure on these people, and the forced isolation and even the violence against them, would have eradicated this behavior a long time ago.”

A memory came to John, an old National Geographic show he watched once featuring swans. Or something. So he jumped in. “Not only that, but even in the animal kingdom we could see similar behaviors. Some birds would choose to mate _for life_,” he stressed this part, “to a member of the same sex even though there can never be any offspring from this bond. This is why I believe that there’s a lot we can teach you. And if you really want to become the advanced society you plan on being, you’re going to have to accept that not everyone goes your way,” John finished.

“This isn’t just _my_ way, Colonel. This is the natural way things are supposed to be. We were created with our suitable counterparts, women, for a reason. A man cannot be with any other creature but a woman. They are made to accept us and inside of them our children are grown. How can a man enjoy sharing a physical contact with another man if he is not inherently deformed?” Shedim countered.

“You do know that there’s a lot of pleasure in sex with a man, right?” Lorne said acidly from beside him, and John turned to look at him. For some reason Lorne was still pissed off. “You do know that we can be stretched to accommodate another man just like a woman does? And that it doesn’t hurt at all?” he spat the words out.

“And yet by your own admission, it is not the natural state of a man,” Shedim looked at the Ancient countdown and smirked. John wished he could read it as well but his Ancient was rusty at best and this was a derivation he didn’t understand at all. 

“And why not? Men have a center of pleasure just like a woman do. Inside of us there’s a gland that when touched or stimulated produces the most unimaginable pleasure, not unlike women,” Lorne said heatedly, his eyes blazing with anger.

“And for that we have only your word,” Shedim shrugged Lorne’s words off.

“Would you care for a demonstration?” Lorne asked venomously, and John felt compelled to place a hand on Lorne’s back to calm him down. He was taking this too seriously and allowing himself to be manipulated by the other side.

“What he means to say is that this is a biological fact. You can ask your doctors about it if you want, they can confirm Evan’s words,” John intervened. Even if Shedim didn’t believe it, at least they’d give the people watching this something to think about.

Shedim smirked. “I wish to conclude this debate. If a bond between two men is so natural, why are men not built for it like women are?” he asked and sat down, indicating that the discussion was over.

“Wait a minute, if he’s allowed to conclude then so are we,” Lorne called after him defiantly, and John turned to look at the neutral observers. The wrinkled old man who opened the debate with the oaths and who now sat with a stack of papers beside him nodded, serious.

“If a bond between two men is so unnatural, why were we created with the physical ability to enjoy it?” Lorne demanded, and not a moment too soon. A shrill ring filled the hall as the countdown came to a stop, and John was left watching as Lorne turned around and walked down the stage towards the exit. 

~o~o~o~o~

As it turned out, it was forbidden to stay inside the amphitheater after the debate was over, much less make small talk like politicians on Earth tended to, so John and Lorne were ushered back to the transport. Noman and Shedim were called up to the neutral observers for consultation (something that was also a custom) and John and his team were left with Noman’s secretary, Zamsh.

John watched while Keller talked to Lorne quietly, heads bending together, and was surprised when Zamsh addressed him. “The debate went well, Colonel,” Zamsh said warmly, asif offering a praise. He was also young, with brown hair and brown eyes and fair skin. He wore glasses and was always carrying several books.

John turned to look at Lorne, understanding that something had upset him and not really knowing what. “I’ve had better,” he replied shortly. Truthfully it could have been worse, since another one of the debate’s many rules was that no speaking representative could step down from the main stage while the debate was still in session, but luckily when Lorne angrily decided to leave the debate had just reached its end. However all things considered, John still wouldn’t go as far as saying that the debate went well.

“The debate’s sole purpose is to come out looking like a winner. The point must come across during the few short minutes that are allotted and the argument must be presented and won in a very shot time. A successful debate is a debate where no one wins and no one loses,” Zamsh explained politely, and seemed content with John’s tight smile.

The ride through the city seemed to last forever, even if in reality they only had three stops along the way. People stared at them with curious eyes, children pointed and adults whispered to each other. But John could also see hostile glances and people who deliberately turned their backs on them, or covered their children’s eyes as they stopped to look.

“I don’t like this,” Ronon said from John’s side, indicating the same people John was looking at with a nod of his head. “Nothing good can come out of it,” he added darkly. John wished sourly that he had thought of that before supporting Woolsey and Rodney, and guessed that in Seteda, like many other planets in the Pegasus galaxy, homosexuality was not the big issue that it obviously was on Olam.

“May I interrupt?” Zamsh said just when John wanted to tell Ronon that it wasn’t as if they had a choice about doing it. “Noman has asked that a room will be prepared for you to rest and relax in after the debate. For those who are not familiar with politics a debate can be quite a startling experience,” he offered kindly, and when the transport pulled to a stop in front of Noman’s offices he politely held the doors open for them.

They were led through the long and spacious halls of the ministry of culture, halls that were decorated with many Ancient artifacts and designs, in silence. John glanced back to see Keller still sticking close to Lorne, but Lorne seemed to be over whatever it was that had upset him and John was relieved. This was hard enough without them adding their personal emotions to the mix.

Zamsh finally led them up a flight of stairs and into a large and impersonal room that was very obviously a guest room. On the wall to their left was a large bed, neatly made and ready. On the opposite wall was a vast library with numerous books and pappers, and the wall between was taken by a huge window. It was so large that one side of it showed the street they had just came from, and the other a magnificent garden that lay hidden within the ministry’s U-shaped building.

“Wow,” Keller approached the garden side and looked down, the others following her. The garden was large and filled with blossoming flowers, surrounded by the building of the ministry from three sides and sloping down and out of sight on the forth. John could see trees and bushes standing on each side of a white brick walkway that crossed the garden, and many more statues and Ancient artifacts strewn between.

“Can we go down and see it?” Keller asked, smiling charmingly at Zamsh.

“Of course. The garden is open to anyone who seeks to walk in it,” Zamnsh replied and held the door open courteously. Keller looked back at the rest of them.

“You guys coming?” she invited. Ronon and Rodney got up immediately, Rodney looking a little mad that Ronon was on his feet as well. Even Teyla got up and smiled at Keller.

“I would love to see the garden,” she said, casting John a questioning look. John looked at Lorne, who showed no signs of wanting to see the garden and was pouring himself a glass of water from a service tray, and shook his head. Out of them all, he was the only one who couldn’t leave Lorne alone. 

“You go ahead. We’ll stay here,” he told Teyla, and watched as they all left and silence enveloped the room. John wondered what had gotten Lorne mad at the debate, but couldn’t really find the words to ask.

Lorne placed his glass on the table and came to stand next to the other side of the window, the one that faced the street and looked out over a large fountain where people walked and children played. On the other side of the street were other buildings whose purpose John didn’t know but which could be excellent places to put surveillance.

“Think they’re watching us from there?” Lorne echoed his thoughts for the second time that day, nodding his head subtly at the other side of the street.

“It’s possible,” John said, and made a decision. He refused to be the one to blow this up. Keller was right. If he was going to go through with it he’d have to either do it the best he could or not at all. “We’re going to have to keep pretending, even in private. That’s why I’m going to put my arms around you,” he warned Lorne, voice calm and quiet despite his growing nervousness.

But doing it was harder than John thought. It wasn’t that Lorne wasn’t good looking, it was that even with his back towards John he was still masculine and buff and very much male. So John took a deep breath and stepped forward, coming to stand behind Lorne. He placed his hands around Lorne’s waist, palms resting against well-defined abdominal muscles that were slightly noticeable through the thin t-shirt.

Lorne’s back was tense but he leaned back into John and John rested his head on top of Lorne’s. They were at the perfect heights for this position. John inhaled quietly, but the nice scents from Lorne’s morning shower have already faded and only the slight trace of cleanliness was still there, mixed with dust from the excavation site and perspiration from the day’s activities.

It was awkward, and John tried to breathe as shallowly as possible in the vain hope that it would prevent him from being flushed to Lorne even though that was how he wanted it to be seen. Lorne, on the other hand, seemed to be taking deeper breaths than usual to try and calm down a little.

“That was quite a speech about love you gave there,” Lorne said suddenly into the heavy silence. Their position had them both tense and awkward, so talking was good.

He shrugged against Lorne as best as he could. “Yes, well. We’ll just have to remember never to show them _Good Will Hunting_,” John revealed.

“_Good Will Hunting_?” Lorne echoed, and John thought that it must be only his imagination that Lorne’s muscles became even stiffer.

“Yeah. I saw the movie a couple of nights ago with Rodney. A mistake I’m never going to repeat. He kept interrupting in the middle and correcting Matt Damon’s mistakes. Ever seen it?” he asked, shifting in his place and trying to find a more comfortable position, but it was impossible. He was trying not to press his groin into Lorne’s ass and still keep Lorne close for the sake of whoever may be observing them.

“No,” Lorne answered shortly, and they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence once more. Down at the other side of the ridiculously large window John could see the rest of his team strolling through the garden and talking amiably amongst themselves. Rodney was still walking just a little too close to Keller, but this time Ronon seemed to be keeping a deliberate distance.

“So how are we going to present ourselves?” John asked when it became clear that Lorne wasn’t going to say anything. After the debate he had finally understood that they needed to present a united front or they’d be torn apart by Shedim. But in order to do that he needed to know what he was supposed to do.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, what kind of a couple are we supposed to be? I want to help, or more accurately I don’t want to make you stand in front of that Shedim guy alone again. It wasn’t your fault that we need to do it,” John explained.

The muscles in Lorne’s back relaxed a little, and he leaned a little more heavily against John. John had to take a step forward and readjust his hold on Lorne to balance them both, which brought him in closer contact with Lorne’s back and ass.

John couldn’t help but notice that the ass that was pressed against him, the same ass he had been trying to avoid a moment ago, was firm and round, and he was concentrating on not consentrating on it so hard that he almost missed what Lorne’s reply.

“We should present exactly what we pretend to be. Two men coming from a world where homosexuality is not a curse or an abomination, where it’s just as normal to fall in love and marry a guy as it is a woman,” Lorne said.

John thought it over, hoping his body wasn’t causing Lorne discomfort, though judging by the way Lorne was relaxing against him he wasn’t. “So the perfect, clichéd couple?” he asked.

Lorne shrugged against him. “This is who we presented ourselves as.”

“Would you want that kind of love?” John was so surprised that he had said the words out loud that for a moment he couldn’t think. The thought was brief and he never meant to go into such personal details with Lorne, of all people.

A soft puff of air in the quiet room told John that Lorne was smiling. “What, a love that stands strong against anything you’d throw at it? A love that you never need to doubt because it’s so certain? A love that’s too perfect to exist? No. I don’t,” Lorne answered, and there was something in his voice that made John want to look at him to see what expression he had on his face.

“You don’t?” John asked back.

“I prefer the ordinary love, where there’s always a trace of doubt, where there’s always fear and always regret. There are no perfect things in life,” Lorne said with a very practical tone, taking John by surprise.

John had expected Landry’s poster boy to believe in pure and perfect love. Somehow it settled well with the image he had in his mind of Lorne, of the prince who lived in fairy tales and considered the Wraith as dragons to slay. Listening to him talking this plainly about imperfect love somehow damaged that image, and John was happier for it.

Because Lorne was right. There were no perfect things in life, and learning that Lorne himself also wasn’t perfect comforted John in a strange way. He was used to people not being perfect so when they seemingly were, like Rod, it annoyed him.

Voices suddenly drifted into the room from the corridor and John’s first reaction was to guiltily snatch his hands away from Lorne’s waist and step back, but Lorne held John’s arms tightly against his belly and squeezed.

“Remember that this is what we’re supposed to look like,” he hissed at John while John frowned and tried to pull his hands free. “Just pull back slowly.”  

John did just that, and just as he was clear of Lorne and finally able to breath freely once more the door opened and his teammates entered.

“The garden is amazing!” Keller exclaimed, showing no signs of having noticed that John and Lorne still stood close, but John was still feeling that awkwardness of having being caught in the act. “I can’t believe how beautiful your world is,” she added warmly to Zamsh, who had followed them in and smiled a smug and proud smile at the compliment.

“We are very proud of it,” he said what every resident of Olam said when referring to their world.

Zamsh suddenly turned to John and Lorne, his eyes knowing, but before John managed to think of something to say or do Zamsh spoke. “Major Lorne, we have arranged for you a tour to our art and culture museum. I heard that you expressed an interest in it the last time you were here,” he addressed Lorne, and John looked just in time to see Lorne’s eyes lighting up.

“I’d love that,” Lorne said with the same enthusiasm Keller had shown for the garden.

“The transportation vehicle should arrive momentarily, and it will take us to the museum where a guided tour is waiting,” Zamsh said, face showing content at having managed to surprise Lorne. “Will Colonel Sheppard be joining us?” he asked politely, looking at John.

John was never big on art. He liked machinery best, and could never really look at pictures for too long without being really bored. “No. I’m not a big fan of art,” he refused, and after a second nearly smacked himself. “Except for Evan’s paintings, of course,” he added hastily. Only five minutes ago he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t be the one to ruin their pretence.

Lorne shrugged at him, not really minding him not coming along apparently, and then gave John the second shock he had had that day. Turning to Ronon, Lorne smiled and asked, “Wanna join me?”

And to John’s even bigger surprise, Ronon smiled back. “Sounds cool,” he replied, and left the room with Lorne and Zamsh while John was too busy trying to remember how to close his mouth.

When he finally managed to get over his shock he turned to Teyla, who was standing by his side with an amused smile. “I see that you did not know of Ronon’s artistic skills,” she stated, smiling at him with no remorse whatsoever.

“No!” John replied, indignant. Rodney was busy talking to Keller on the other side of the room, but at John’s surprised exclamation they both lifted their heads to check that everything was fine. John ignored them. There were so many questions running through his mind, so many things that he wanted to know, that he didn’t even know where to start.

Ronon as an artist? Somehow John was having a hard time picturing it.

Teyla took pity on him. “I did not know myself until I was pregnant with Torren. Few do, even now,” she said, serious.

“Yet you still did,” John pointed out, angry and hurt. “And apparently Lorne did to!” he added irritably. He considered himself as one of Ronon’s closer friends. Why did Lorne know something about Ronon that he didn’t?

“Ronon never told anyone because he felt that it was not the reason he was in Atlantis for. Painting is a part of his old life in Seteda,” Teyla explained, which only served to hurt John more. Hell, he was the one kicking Wraith ass on Seteda with Ronon, not Lorne.

“He still could have told me,” John replied stubbornly.

“He felt that this was not the reason why you brought him to Atlantis,” Teyla repeated patiently.

“Well, sure, not at first. But even if he wasn’t such a great warrior I would still have offered him a place to stay!” John objected.

“And a place on the team as well?” Teyla inquired gravely, and John went silent. Of course not. But the fact was that Ronon _was_ on the team, and to John the team was family. He saw no reason for Ronon to hold back on that little hobby, and was irritated that he chose to share the information with Lorne. Lorne, of all people.

“If it brings you any comfort, he would never have told Major Lorne of this or even returned to painting at all if it was not for Carson’s death,” Teyla said, her excellent observation skills leading her to pick up on the thing that bothered John the most with startling speed.

“What do you mean ‘if not for Carson’s death’?” John asked, remembering the event with mixed emotions. Carson was returned to them, sort of, but John could still remember telling his mother that her son was dead, still felt the heaviness of the coffin as he carried it to its designated grave atop a green hill in Scotland.

“After Carson’s death it became common knowledge that Major Lorne paints. Ronon approached him while you were on Earth for the funeral and asked that he buy Ronon some equipment as well, and I think that it was Carson’s death that led him to pick up painting again,” Teyla explained.

John almost asked her how he never noticed Ronon and Lorne going out together while they were on Earth when a different thought occurred to him. “And how do _you_ know about Ronon painting?” he asked, glancing at where Rodney was immersed in Keller and oblivious to the world. “Does Rodney know too?” he asked sharply.

“Rodney does not. As for me, I learned of it when Major Lorne and Ronon escorted me to my many regular check-ups with Jennifer during my pregnancy,” Teyla informed him, yet another curveball John never anticipated.

“Lorne escorted you to your prenatal appointments?” John asked, incredulous. He knew he wasn’t the most supporting team leader in the world during most of Teyla’s pregnancy, but he had never thought that Lorne might take up the position. Rationally John knew that there was nothing to prevent him from doing it, but John was too angry and put out at the time to take reason into consideration.

“Yes,” Teyla said coolly. “Major Lorne was most supportive of me during my pregnancy. And he still is. He was the first of the people of Earth to congratulate me on it, and talking to him helped me get through some of the…” Teyla searched for the right word and John looked at her, tense. “More difficult stages,” she finished, phrasing it delicately.

John looked at her, feeling betrayed but knowing that he had no one to blame for the disconnection between them during Teyla’s pregnancy but himself. Still, he was surprised to learn that Lorne knew his team this well. As if Rodney’s friendship with him wasn’t enough.

“You seem to know Lorne pretty well,” John remarked, and failed to keep a note of accusation from entering his voice.

“I do,” Teyla replied, undaunted. “I fear that I have done him an injustice by following your lead and treating him with polite coldness originally. I have since learned that he is a wonderful man.”

John frowned, his back stiffening. Teyla was not the first to bring up John’s coldness towards Lorne, and while he had already started treating Lorne like an equal and saw the good soldier that he was, he was disturbed to know that he was that transparent. Or that he had caused a man under his command such trouble because of circumstances that weren’t, for the most part, Lorne’s fault.

“Wonderful man?” John started feeling a little foolish for repeating everything Teyla was saying, but he couldn’t find words of his own and he wanted to keep her talking. 

“He was very supportive even after Torren was born,” Teyla said with obvious approval, the kind mothers tend to show when talking about something relating to their child. “He even offered to watch over Torren should Kanan and I want a quiet night together.”

Teyla then looked at John with a piercing gaze. “You should talk to him, get to know him,” she said honestly.

“Have you been talking to Rodney? What, you two planned this?” John asked irritably. It was unnerving enough to hear Rodney talk about Lorne, but somehow John never really saw Teyla and Lorne together enough to even think that they knew each other that well.

Teyla looked surprised. “I have not,” she answered. “Why do you ask?”

“Because Rodney told me the same thing.”

Teyla looked at where Rodney was now looking through the window with Keller. “He is right. I think you will be surprised at what you find once you start familiarizing yourself with Major Lorne,” she said after a brief pause, and John almost snorted at that. Like he didn’t have enough surprises at the moment as it was.

But having two people telling him to get to know Lorne, two people he had never even thought were aware of Lorne’s existence other than in passing, meant that maybe John was in the wrong here.

And that maybe a talk with Lorne really would help in changing the already changing way he viewed his 2IC. Maybe he’d do it.

After he was done being mad over that whole Ronon painting thing.

~o~o~o~o~

John made his way to the mess hall with some relief. It might have been only five days, but he was already sick and tired of spending every free minute of his time either on Olam or with Woolsey, discussing the latest turns of events that occurred there.

Woolsey was brilliant when it came to politics, warning John of dirty tricks someone may try to pull on them, directing John on what to say and how to phrase his words, and what he absolutely mustn’t say under any circumstances. Yet the bottom line always remained the same: John and Lorne must keep up the pretence.

John knew this, was resigned to it by now, but he needed a break from hearing it and he needed a break from living it. Thankfully Woolsey seemed to sense that he needed some time away from Lorne because he had a separate conversation with Lorne after the first debate while John went to talk to Ronon and sort some things out, and that was the routin post-mission briefing since then.

When he reached the mess hall, however, it turned out that he wouldn’t get his break anytime soon. It was a sunny day in Atlantis, the sky was clear and the breeze was nice. It was the perfect day to have lunch on the deck and sure enough, John could spot Rodney and Keller sitting around one of the best tables.

And with them sat Lorne and Amelia.

John wanted to join Rodney, but he wasn’t sure he was up to seeing Lorne again. They departed for Olam early in the morning every day, AST, and were allowed to return after the afternoon debate. The Atlantis’ day was 32 hours long and returning after the debate left them with enough time to be home back for the late lunch at the mess hall.

John didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but instead of going to sit with Teyla, Ronon and Kusanagi at another table just as good, he took a tray, dumped some random sandwiches on it, snagged a fruit cup and slowly made his way to Rodney’s table unseen. Instead of going out there and taking the last vacant chair he stayed in the corner and simply watched.

Lorne’s lunch was already finished and he was animatedly telling Rodney, Keller and Amelia a story, hands gesturing to get the point across. “She didn’t know I followed her to the bonfire and listened to all the scary stories they told each other there. When she got back home I smeared ketchup all over my face and entered her room-“

“Oh, you did not!” Keller cried, appalled, but a smile was tugging on her lips. Rodney was laughing so hard he was wheezing next to her.

“I waited until she was comfortable in the bed and then I lit the flashlight on my face! She was so scared she ran to the car and locked herself there for an hour!” Lorne finished, laughing along with Amelia, Keller and Rodney.

“This is so good! I can’t believe I never thought of that,” Rodney said once he had calmed down a little. John had never seen him laughing so hard with anyone who was not on the team. “Although I would probably have gotten the beating of my life if I’d scared Jeannie like that,” he said, face still slightly flushed from laughter.

“Don’t think I didn’t. Couldn’t sit for a week,” Lorne replied.

“But it was worth it,” they both said in union, causing Keller and Amelia to laugh.

“So, I know that the good doctor here was an only child, but what about you, Amelia?” Lorne asked, placing his hand casually on the back rest of Amelia’s chair. That movement caught John’s eye for some reason and he stared at the way Amelia’s brown hair tickled Lorne’s muscular arm. There was something that was too casual about it. It didn’t fit, just like Keller’s hand on Lorne didn’t fit.

“Me?” Amelia smiled. “I have six older brothers. I’m the youngest and the only girl in the family, so they all beat each other up if they thought one of them did something to upset me,” she said, finishing the last of her lunch and gently pushing the tray away, causing Lorne to smile back at her.

“Now we can get to the dessert part!” Lorne announced happily, “I have a cup of red jello that I’ve waited the entire meal to eat,” he added cheerfully, and Rodney and Keller raised surprised eyes at him.

“You like red jello?” Rodney asked incredulously. “That’s disgusting!”

“It’s the best jello there is,” Lorne replied, undaunted.

“Usually I prefer the fruit cup but on this I’m with Rodney. Blue jello is the one and only. Now we need to see what Amelia has to say,” Keller said challengingly, smiling in good spirits as she opened said fruit cup and dipped her spoon in.

Amelia looked somewhat embarrassed. “Actually, I like the green one,” she said, lifting her cup out of the napkin and causing everyone to make the same disgusted sound Rodney had made before.

Someone bumped into John and John figured that he’d been standing there watching them for long enough. He was hungry and now that he was snapped out of his trance-like observation of Lorne he was beginning to be aware that he probably looked strange standing and watching them with a tray of food in his hands.

John moved out towards the balcony and approached Rodney’s table just as Lorne opened his jello and took a spoonful into his mouth. When he saw John standing next to their table he swallowed hastily and acknowledged him formally, “Sir.”

“Major,” John replied in kind. “Mind if I join you?” John asked the table in general.

“Not at all, Colonel,” Amelia said, scooting over so that John could sit in the vacant chair next to her.

“No need,” Lorne was saying, gathering his still full cup of jello and the wrappings of his sandwiches and getting up. “I need to meet up with Zelenka anyway about those defense lessons, so you can have my seat, sir,” he volunteered.

John thought that that was a lie because Lorne hadn’t seemed to be in a hurry a few moments before and he hadn’t finished his precious dessert, but didn’t really want to call him on it. And the scientists really were required to take defense lessons from Ronon, Teyla or one of the qualified gym instructors after the incident with Todd on the Deadalus. Woolsey was very disturbed by it and demanded that anyone stationed in Atlantis know how to defend themselves.

“Radek?” Rodney snored degradingly. “He can’t even hurt a fly. It’s a total waste of your time and more importantly, of his time. I mean, we have an entire ZedPM we need to be running tests on, and he’s the only person I have who screws up only half of what he touches,” Rodney complained.

“He did manage to hit Major Lorne with a metal rod when we were all infected with that Kirsen fever,” Amelia pointed out. John remembered it. Now that Amelia said it he remembered Lorne being hospitalized with a mild concussion as well as with the after-effects of the Kirsen fever and of the consumption  of too many stimulants. He also remembered that damn apology Lorne sent him via Teyla, and him detesting it when Teyla relayed it. It was a lousy attempt to please when he finally did something that wasn’t by the book, in John’s eyes.

“Yes, and if you mentioned it to him all you’ll hear for the next few hours will be ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’,” Rodney snorted, but Lorne shook his head and got up.

“Sorry, Doc. Mr. Woolsey’s orders,” Lorne said.

“If you’re sure,” John replied and sat in Lorne’s place once Lorne extracted himself from it.

Lorne departed with a quick goodbye, disposing of his waste by the disposal spot and returning his tray to its place before leaving the mess hall. John stared after Lorne’s retreating form and once he was gone turned back to the table to find Rodney looking at him with an air of annoyance.

“What?” John asked irritably when Rodney folded his arms on his chest. It wasn’t his fault that Lorne decided to go or that he had something to do with Zelenka. Maybe Lorne needed to get ready for the training session and maybe he was simply uncomfortable with John because of what they were doing on Olam. John wouldn’t blame him for feeling that way either.

Rodney didn’t reply but returned to eating his blue jello in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know that it's hard to see Ronon as an artist. But after reading producer and writer Joseph Mallozzi's blog, where he said that they considered showing Ronon paint in a flashback to his life in Seteda, it gave me the idea to incorporate it into the story.


	6. Chapter 6

John was beginning to fear that he was losing his mind. He had been looking for Lorne for an hour and a half now. It was ridiculous to be searching for any person in Atlantis for so long but John was reluctant to use his radio, thus straining his own search efforts and pissing himself off. Not that being pissed off was that rare anymore – he was always pissed over something since Rodney had opened his big mouth – but usually he wasn’t pissed at himself.

He’d started with Lorne’s office, where Lorne could almost always be found when he and John had a work meeting, but the office was vacant and dark. John stood there for a moment, looking at the very impersonal space, and wondered why it had nothing of Lorne in it. Given the amount of time Lorne spent there, John had expected him to make it homier.

He then went up to the gyms and asked Lorne’s teammates, Stevens and Walker, if they had seen him. Stevens was lifting some weights while Walker was busy fighting Williams with the Athosian Banto rods. When John entered all three snapped to attention, and John dismissed them with a quick wave of a hand. When he asked, all three looked at each other with a strange expression before shaking their heads.

After that John went to Rodney’s lab, where he found Rodney and Radek arguing about something that had something to do with paradoxes and power outputs. When he entered he was given even less consideration than air, but when he asked whether either of them had seen Lorne they both turned to look at him, speechless. His question had surprised them so much that they actually lost track of their argument, and John thought it was a little unfair. It wasn’t that uncommon for the CO to be looking for his XO. The fact that he hadn’t done it so far was of little consequence.

He went to every known hang out spot, searched every place he could think of and had even gone down to Lorne’s quarters, which seemed to be as far away from his own as possible yet conveniently only a short transporter’s ride away, but found no trace of him. At that point he was so irritated it was probably visible on his face. Irritated that everyone he had asked looked like he had just declared his allegiance to the Wraith, and irritated that he was still reluctant to use his radio. 

They had been visiting Olam for almost a week now and had established an uncomfortable routine (uncomfortable because John couldn’t say that he was okay with the physical closeness still), by that time. But still whenever they gated back to Atlantis Lorne would keep his distance, and John was beginning to grow exasperated of Teyla’s and Rodney’s hints regarding his relationship with his 2IC. Teyla was subtle about it of course, sending him disapproving looks and hinting at him with a slight raising of her eyebrows. Rodney possessed all the subtlety of an elephant. It came to a shouting match between the two of them and John had finally had enough, deciding to find Lorne and have a chat with him for all their sakes. 

He had been planning on doing it once they all had a chance to refresh after returning from Olam, but as soon as they stepped through the gate Woolsey had sent Lorne to M5R-037 once again. The SGC requested that he return to the planet and conduct some more tests on the Naquadah, and John managed to understand only that it had something to do with density, drills and explosives before Lorne was gone once again. 

John had begun his search after asking Chuck if Lorne had returned yet, three hours after Lorne’s departure to the planet, and received a puzzled ‘yes’ in return. However, Lorne seemed to have disappeared from Atlantis, and John was starting to think that he had been crazy to not use the radio and pissed off that his queries had got him such shocked replies.

As a last effort before giving up, John went down to the mess hall though he didn’t have high hopes that he’d find Lorne, let alone anyone else, there at such a late hour. He was slightly tired from looking for Lorne for as long as he had and swore to himself that if he ran into another dead end at the mess, he’d use the radio to hail him.

Of course, that was where John had found him.

Lorne was sitting at a table on the balcony by the rail and reading a magazine, a cup of coffee and a half eaten cookie on a tray before him and the wind playing with his loose shirt and short hair. John wondered how long Lorne had been sitting in the empty and silent mass hall, since he knew for a fact that the man had returned from M5R-037 three hours ago.

John approached him, snagging an apple on the way, and sat down on the chair facing Lorne, startling him. When Lorne clumsily dropped the magazine in his confusion, John could see that it was a four months old issue of _National Geographic_.

Lorne raised surprised and tired eyes at him, eyes that were as gray and stormy as the sea surrounding them, and grimaced a little as he retrieved his magazine and marked the page he was reading before closing it. “Sir,” he acknowledged formally, clearly waiting for John to state the reason why he was sitting with him. Frowning, John tried to remember if there were times when Lorne had been anything but straight to the point with him and failed.

“I’ve been looking for you for an hour and a half,” John said to distract himself.

Lorne’s expressive eyebrows climbed up in wonderment. “You were looking for _me_?” he echoed slowly, disbelieving.

Now John was really irritated. “Why is it so hard for everyone to believe that I’ve been looking for you?” he demanded angrily.

“Because you never do,” Lorne answered him, matter of fact.

“Well, I do now,” John said defiantly. “Don’t forget that we still have that whole 995 crap going on,” he added pointedly, and looked around him. The corner Lorne had chosen was quiet, isolated and out of the way, and the man must have been tired from going off-world again right after returning from 995.

“Are you hiding from me?” John asked suspiciously, staring into Lorne’s eyes. John remembered Lorne hastily getting up from his chair and abandoning his red jello once John approached the table a few days before. Now Lorne was sitting alone in the mess hall in a faraway corner when he should be easily located in his bed. It was nearly 3100 hours already.

It wasn’t that far fetched to believe that Lorne was hiding from him, after the way they had to touch each other on the planet. John planned on apologizing for that, amongst other things, if only to get the awkwardness out of the way. He sought out Lorne to calm things down, not create more friction between his team, Lorne and himself. 

Lorne looked surprise at John’s question. “No, sir,” he answered immediately, his eyes shifting down to look at his cookie.

He was avoiding eye contact. “So you’re not hiding, but you are avoiding me,” John said without beating around the bush much.

“You mean now or in general?” Lorne asked without removing his eyes from the table, a tired tone to his voice that had John re-running the question in his mind again. Was Lorne avoiding John in general?

He was. Or more accurately, he had always worked very hard to get out of John’s way. When John didn’t need to see him, like in staff meetings or other work-related meetings, Lorne was never around. Lorne was never someone John had bothered with, so he was never someone John had missed. But now that he thought about it he realized that Lorne must have been avoiding him like a plague for this to happen.

“Why?” he asked, surprised. Why had he gone to all this trouble?

At this Lorne’s eyes looked defiantly up at him. “Because you’ve made it clear that you don’t like me, sir. I didn’t want to force myself on you,” Lorne said in a voice that was so carefully neutral that the lack of emotions in it hurt John’s ears.

There were so many things wrong with that statement that John stared at Lorne for a moment, completely speechless. Soldiers were supposed to trust their commander, to know that he’d always be there for them regardless of how he felt about any one of them. For Lorne to believe such a thing was… disturbing.

“I don’t hate you,” John denied on instinct alone.

“I never said you did. I said that you disliked me,” Lorne corrected.

“That’s not true,” John said more seriously, looking into Lorne’s eyes to get the point across.

Lorne looked away from John and down at his cookie, and John noticed that Lorne’s fingernail was digging a hole into the brown coating. John’s own apple was sitting close to it, but Lorne was careful that none of his chocolate debris reached it.

“Yes, sir,” was all Lorne said in response.

But John wasn’t satisfied. There was something familiar about the ‘yes, sir’ Lorne had just used, something that John couldn’t quite point his finger at until it suddenly dawned upon him. It was the same ‘yes, sir’ Lorne had used when John had promised him that there would be no consequences after the mission to 995. Lorne didn’t believe him then, and he didn’t believe him now.

John sighed. “I don’t dislike you, Lorne,” he said truthfully. And it was true. John didn’t dislike Lorne so fervently anymore. “You’ve proven yourself a good man during your time in Atlantis, and I respect that,” John added, which was also true.

“And before I proved myself to be a ‘good man’?” Lorne asked mildly, quoting John’s words with a hint of bitterness that John couldn’t be sure was really there. He was never good at reading people. But Lorne’s question put John in an awkward position and he was almost sorry he had broached the subject in the first place. He couldn’t deny Lorne’s words. 

“I always wondered why, you know?” Lorne said almost conversationally, but he was still not looking at John and his finger had already made a passageway from one side of his cookie to the other.

John’s hand shot out to still Lorne’s and Lorne looked up, eyes wary. He remained silent though, so John took a deep breath and tried to explain. “I don’t dislike you, not exactly. I disliked the fact that Landry pushed you onto me, and that you weren’t my appointment. I disliked the fact that Landry was trying to put a babysitter on me, and that he wanted to get rid of me and was very willing to abandon my previous XO as well. But most of all I disliked the fact that the appointment was Landry’s perfect poster boy. Maybe some of this dislike was shown in how I treated you-” which, John knew, was a big fat lie. He never treated Lorne too well. “-And I’m sorry for that,” John concluded.

Lorne’s back went rigid and his eyes flashed with anger. “You think I’m the perfect poster boy?” he asked, voice low.

“Think? Landry read me an entire grocery list of qualities you’re supposedly possessing,” John countered heatedly, remembering standing in Landry’s office and listening to Landry rattle on about Lorne. Now, four years later, John could acknowledge that most of what Landry had said was true, but that was beside the point.

“You don’t know me,” Lorne said, voice so low it was almost a whisper. He snatched his hand from John’s grip angrily and John looked at his suddenly empty hand and then back up again, surprised. He had no idea why Lorne was angry, or that he even was angry until a second ago. “I’m not nearly as perfect as you think,” Lorne said darkly.

John was amazed that Lorne was this mad over the entire perfection thing. “Landry told me that they wanted you to be a team leader back at the SGC,” John said carefully, not really knowing this man’s anger to know where the boundaries were.

“Did he tell you that I was responsible for the death of a man? Of a friend?” Lorne demanded. His anger was quiet and his face was hard. “He didn’t tell you squat,” Lorne spat harshly.

John raised an eyebrow, curious despite the tricky situation he was facing. He was there to talk to Lorne, not antagonize him. Lorne’s face was so dark it was hard to believe that only that morning on Olam he was sending John brilliant smiles.

“What happened?” John asked tentatively. There was nothing about it in Lorne’s file.

“We were on a dig off-world, and Ritter was taking some measurements when he was kidnapped by an Unas and killed. Hanged like a scarecrow to warn everyone else away,” Lorne’s voice was filled with bitterness, and John winced. It was so unlike him that it was unsettling. “They said that it was Edwards’ fault. The investigation, that is. But it wasn’t. If I hadn’t moved the artifacts we found, if I’d have called Doctor Jackson as protocol dictated, Ritter would still be here,” Lorne looked into John’s eyes and John saw hatred there, but he knew from experience that it was not directed at anyone but at Lorne himself. “But he’s not, because I didn’t,” Lorne concluded, jerking his head to the side and breaking eye contact.

There was a sudden shift in the air, maybe even a weight that John didn’t really know was there and was now suddenly lifted. Suddenly it was easier to look at Lorne, easier to talk to him, to see him as a fellow commander and officer. Because every soldier who’d been out in the field had such a story, a personal burden to carry, a personal ghost. Someone who could never have been saved, someone who’s death was not your fault, yet it always feels like it was.

John’s was Holland. 

Lorne got up, collecting the crumbs of his uneaten cookie into his empty coffee cup and folding his magazine under his armpit. “Like I’ve said, you don’t know me. I’m far from perfect,” Lorne said quietly, apparently calmer, before making his way towards the exit.

Somehow, after truly talking to Lorne today for the first time, John didn’t want to let him go. Not like that, not with such bitter feelings. He had a feeling that he had missed Lorne for four years, missed him because of his own stupidity. Lorne had learned to hide behind formalities and tightly controlled emotions, John could see, and John never really suspected that this was what he had been hiding inside. Teyla and Rodney were right. He never bothered looking, and now he was curious to know more.

“Can I see your works?” John blurted, surprising both himself and Lorne. He wanted to buy himself some time, yes, but he wasn’t sure that this was the right way to do it.

Lorne stopped with his back to John and took a moment before turning around. His face and eyes showed wariness and dismay. “What?” he asked, confused.

“Your paintings,” John clarified, just as wary as Lorne. “Can I see them?”

Lorne seemed to think this over, looking at John almost as if expecting John to jump out of his chair and yell ‘April fools!’ but John did his best to hold eye contact and appear calm. He wasn’t sure that Lorne would allow him into his quarters, or that he even wanted John there. He had no reason to, and the conversation they had just had, despite being somewhat of an eye-opener for John, wasn’t in any way easy or nice.

“Okay,” Lorne said finally, and seemed almost as surprised to be saying it as John was to hear it.

Lorne’s quarters were everything John had expected Lorne’s office to be. They were cozy and welcoming and had a very unique mark that was Lorne, though John couldn’t explain just how he knew what sort of a mark Lorne would have.

On the floor was a large Athosian rug patterned in red and yellow, and over by the sofa was an Athosian quilt. The bed was tidy and neat, the little kitchen clean but for a plate and a glass of water out of place, and the curtain (not Athosian but certainly not from Earth either) blew gently in the night’s breeze. In the corners were all sorts of plants, even one that John thought he remembered Parrish commenting was carnivorous, all blossoming nicely as it was nearing spring time.

Lorne was looking at him with the same wary look from before, but John was unsure of what was expected of him. So he opted for the truth. “Isn’t that plant dangerous?” he asked, curious.

Lorne ducked his head suddenly, but John could see that he was fighting down a smile. “It only eats local frogs. Doc Parrish gives me a new batch once a month. It’s kind of like having a fish, only you don’t have to refresh its water and clear the tanks,” Lorne answered, and John thought that he sounded a bit less tense.

John watched, somewhat fascinated, as the plant’s large egg-like top turned to follow Lorne’s footsteps. “It’s a cool place you’ve got here,” John remarked finally.

Lorne turned to look at him for a moment before smiling an open, if tentative, smile. “Thanks,” he seemed to consider whether to say anything more, but eventually said only, “It’s a home now. I wanted to make it one.”

John offered a weak half-smile back. Lorne seemed to enjoy discovering every single expectation John had of him and proving him wrong. Not a lot of people treated the city like a home. A home was a place you missed when you were away, a place you felt completely safe in. A place you’d give everything up to protect. He had never expected Lorne’s loyalty to be to the city. The perfect poster boy always knew where home was, and for Lorne home was supposed to be the good old USA.

Leading John further into the room Lorne showed him his paintings, and John forgot about everything else when faced with the vivid colors and beauty of the depicted scenes: Jumpers in the air above the waters of Atlantis, the city’s spirals, the Stargate surrounded by flowers on some agrarian planet, Lorne’s teammates and more. The images were breath-taking, realistic and so vivid that it was a feast for the eyes.

John turned to Lorne, amazed. He thought that Lorne had missed his calling, but he had a feeling that saying it would break the fragile trust they had somehow managed to achieve. And once the initial urge to say it passed, John found that he was actually happy that Lorne was there in Atlantis.

“You’re very good, these are amazing,” John said truthfully, and watched as Lorne’s entire body seemed to relax. It was only then that he understood that Lorne wanted to hear that. That John’s opinion mattered. It forced John to suppress a smile he wasn’t sure would not be misinterpreted at the moment.

“Thanks,” Lorne said quietly, but his smile soon disappeared and awkwardness threatened to settle between them.

John couldn’t explain it, but he wanted to stay. Was fascinated by what Lorne was revealing to him. He felt like he was only starting to understand why Lorne had won the friendship of his entire team, and he didn’t want to stop there.

He suddenly spotted a disc next to Lorne’s laptop on the bedside table. The title read Alien, and John smirked. “Watched it already?” he asked, pointing at the disc. Lorne looked dismayed, scanning the table before realizing what John was talking about. He frowned.

“No,” he said slowly, looking at John with questioning eyes. “I haven’t.”

John figured that a movie was as good a place to start getting to know Lorne as any. “Wanna watch it together?” he asked, hopeful.

Lorne looked at him for a moment more before smiling again, like the brilliant smile he had sent John when they were back on 995 only a thousand times better. “Sure. Why not?” he said, seemingly as relieved as John was that they managed to avoid the impending uneasiness of being alone together with nothing to say, and loaded the movie into his laptop.

They both settled on Lorne’s couch and John reached for the lighting dimmer, turning off the lights, and soon the movie started playing on the small screen. John had a lot of things to think about. What had happened tonight was a lot to take in, and it took Lorne so far away from the image John had had of him in his mind that John was now forced to create a new one.

He just hoped he’d manage to do it accurately this time.

~o~o~o~o~

The next few days were far better than the first few, mainly because of that night John had spend in Lorne’s quarters. They had watched the movie, Lorne had brought out some alien snacks that resembled crisps and sometime during the goriest parts they’d both fallen asleep.

Just before going to sleep John remembered Chaya, and was finally able to figure it out. Chaya loved him, he knew that. She told him that. He was welcomed to stay on Proculus for as long as he wanted, or even come and visit. But after dropping by to see how Chaya was doing after the Wraith attack on her planet, John never returned. Because Chaya was also perfect. Everything about her was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, compassionate and passionate, and was too good to be true, except that she was.

Before he left, Chaya had shown him her cool trick. She had guided his spirit, shown him how to fly and become one and complete with her for just a moment. She showed him just how beautiful she was, inside and out, and just how much she loved him.

In return she saw John’s scarred soul.

She asked him then why he thought himself undeserving of such perfection. He never answered, and never returned. She was right, of course, but she was perfect just like Landry told him Lorne was. And as long as Lorne was perfect John couldn’t help but remember Chaya and what she had asked.

Now, on the other hand, John was getting to know Lorne and was able to better pretend to be his lover. It was easier, because there wasn’t the barrier of strangeness and uneasiness between them anymore. Lorne wasn’t what John had always thought him to be anymore.

It also helped, of course, that things began to settle down a bit in Olam. People were very curious, and John and Lorne were always stopped in the street and asked questions, each session ending up as a street show or an open panel for questions about their alleged relationship or their society.

But not everyone was as accepting.

The first incident happened two days after John and Lorne had had their chat. After his tour to the art museum Lorne was asked by the minister of culture Nahar (Lorne and he had become fast friends) to teach several classes about Earth’s art, to which Lorne had eagerly agreed and won a roomful of listeners during every lecture.

Lorne had told them about Van Gogh, Da Vinci, Andy Worhall and many other famous painters and artists of Earth. The people of Olam were so fascinated by what he was saying that when John came to pick Lorne up for lunch, he found his way blocked by listeners and couldn’t even get inside the building.

The lectures took place inside the Museum of Art, which turned out to be a cultural center that hosted many events during the year. The amount of people required to fill the main hall of the museum to a capacity was huge, but there they were. They stood flushed against each other, leaning and squeezing against walls and artifacts, and all that to hear Lorne talk, which John found strange.

It wasn’t that Lorne wasn’t a good orator, he was. He talked with enthusiasm and honest passion about Earth’s art and his voice was warm and echoed pleasantly around the hall. But John was still somewhat annoyed that he couldn’t get more than a handful of people to make way for him to catch Lorne’s eye and signal him to take a break.

Lorne, however, spotted him and sent a big and radiating smile his way, causing everyone in the vast main hall to turn and see what had gotten their lecturer so happy.

John felt his skin prickling with the number of people staring at him, and now that people were making way for him instead of blocking it he could see that the second and third floors of the museum were filled with listeners as well. It was a lot of people, and they were all staring at John with awe and wonder, but he took a deep breath and mouthed to Lorne, ‘lunch’, which Lorne seemed to understand since he quickly ended the lecture with a promise for more the next day.

“Looks like you’re a hit,” John commented while people began filing out of the hall, nodding and waving goodbye to Lorne as he passed them by.

“Oh, yes. I’m telling them about alien art and openly sleeping with another man. You can understand the attraction,” Lorne drawled quietly, making John stand up straighter and send him an incredulous look.

A man approached them before John could form a reply, a man who had black hair and black eyes and a goatee that reminded John all too much of Mr. Spock of Star Trek. Lorne approached him and smiled, reaching out to shake the man’s outstretched hand.

“This lecture will be remembered for generations to come, Major Lorne,” the man said while enthusiastically shaking Lorne’s hand. John guessed that this was Nahar, since shaking hands wasn’t the common practice on Olam.

“John, this is Nahar, Minister of Culture and curator of all museums on Olam,” Lorne introduced, confirming John’s suspicion. To John’s surprise, however, Nahar seemed somewhat unfazed when he turned to look at him.

“Colonel Sheppard. I don’t believe we have met,” he said, briefly shaking John’s hand. John threw Lorne a questioning look, but Lorne was too busy talking to the people passing by to notice Nahar’s strange behavior.

“I’m not a big fan of art. That’s Evan’s department,” John answered carefully, not really sure what was wrong.

Nahar’s face cleared suddenly, as if he had remembered his manners. “Yes, so I was told,” he announced. “I was thinking of offering you a tour to our engineering museum, Colonel, as I understand that you find these sort of things to be of higher interest than your partner,” he offered, the strange reaction from before gone without a trace.

John shrugged it off. People were sometimes shocked to see them, and their reactions varied until they got a hold of themselves and started being polite. “I’d love that,” John answered amiably. “Maybe Evan would want to come too,” he added when he saw that Lorne was listening once more.

“Sure,” Lorne agreed easily. “But after lunch,” he added, glancing at his chronometer. It wasn’t as though they were late because that day, unlike most other days, they were allowed to eat lunch by themselves in Noman’s office instead of dining with different officials and patrons. But getting out of the museum took longer than John had anticipated and by that time he was very hungry. Lorne was probably starving, because that buff body had to have come from somewhere and it wasn’t solely due to logging hours at the gym. 

“Of course,” Nahar agreed. “You’ll find that the back door will lead you out faster than the front,” he suggested, nodding his head at where people were lined up waiting to get out through the busy bottleneck.

John and Lorne left Nahar after thanking him again, and were out in the sun through the back door in a very short time. They could see people still filing out of the entrance, and John was beginning to wonder just how many people were in that lecture for them to take so long to get out.

“Hungry?” Lorne asked John, stretching a little in a sunny spot to release some kinks from his neck.

“Oh, yeah. You don’t even know how much,” John said emphatically. “Being dragged around by Rodney is a very, very tiring experience. Not to mention that he kept pushing all sorts of things into my hands and asked me to turn them on,” John added. He had spent the morning with Rodney going over all sorts of Ancient gismos and gadgets that the people of Olam had rescued from various archeological digs. The worst part of it was that Rodney kept insisting that John should think things on even when he had no idea what they were supposed to do. John was convinced that half of those damn metal pieces were some of the Ancients’ most valued statues. They never really had much of a taste in décor.

Lorne smiled. “Well, that’s McKay for you,” he said easily, setting an unhurried pace along the small street they were walking on towards the transport station. “When Radek found this-” he started, but suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

John saw it too. A young boy was running down the populated street chasing a ball, but his shoelaces were untied and he kept tripping on them. He managed not to overbalance each time it happened, until he had stepped on one of them and it snapped under his foot. The kid fall face first onto the ground, the skin of his arms and chin dragging and breaking on the rough road.

John and Lorne were there in an instant, Lorne picking the crying kid up into his arms while John dug in his vest pockets for his field dressing and tore it open. He pressed the sterile pad to the kid’s chin to stop the bleeding while Lorne stroked the kid’s head and made calming noises.

“There you go, see? It stopped bleeding. Next it’ll scab and after a while you won’t remember a thing, right?” Lorne said to the kid, cradling him close and wiping away his tears and snot with the tails of the dressing.

“You’re good with kids,” John couldn’t help but remark when the kid stopped crying and turned to sniffing shyly against Lorne’s shoulder.

“My sister has two. All they want is their ‘Uncle Evan’,” Lorne said, smiling down at the kid in his arms. “Better?” he asked, and the kid nodded jerkily, hands grasping Lorne’s sleeve. He was small and blonde, with large green eyes and the typical Olam’s pale complexion.

“Good!” Lorne said brightly. “I knew a brave kid like you wouldn’t cry so much over such a small wound. Besides, I’m sure all your friends will envy you when you show it to them,” he said encouragingly, making John smile. He’d compared wounds and scars and all sorts of gory stuff with his friends when he was small too. It was a guy thing. And if Lorne’s smile was any indication he’d done the same.

Suddenly Lorne was pushed violently into John, nearly causing them both to topple over, and the boy was whisked from Lorne’s arms. John was so shocked all he could do was hold onto Lorne to keep him from falling and to support himself from doing the same.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you _freak_!” a man shouted at them, moving forward with a large wooden club while a frantic woman behind him took the boy into her arms and kept patting him almost as if Lorne’s and John’s touch was like dust that had to be removed.

The people who were walking by had stopped and were staring in confusion and astonishment at the scene unfolding before them, and some had ran away to, John presumed, call the peace forces. But John was too busy with other things at the moment to care. The man swung his club in the air and John pushed Lorne behind him on instinct alone, his gun already raised and ready in case the man was stupid enough to try and attack them. A split second later he heard the safety guard on Lorne’s gun clicking and knew that Lorne was ready to act too.

The man wasn’t that stupid, it seemed, even if he was narrow minded. He took a step back, almost shaking with fright and anger, and lowered his club. “Just stay away from him, perverts!” he snarled and ran away, heaving his son into his arms in the process and causing the wound on the kid’s chin to start bleeding again.

John lowered his gun, still somewhat stunned from what had just happened. His first thought, however, was Lorne, and he turned to check on him after returning the safety guard of his gun to its place.

Lorne was pale and shaken, eyes wide and nearly black with adrenaline. He was still holding his weapon and John carefully wrapped his hand around Lorne’s, causing him to snap him back to his senses and lower it.

“Are you okay?” John asked, worried.

Lorne turned to look at him, an unreadable look on his face. “I’ll be fine,” he said shortly.

John wanted to pressure him for a real answer because he knew that tone, knew that Lorne was lying, but the peace forces had arrived and were questioning them both in length about the event and trying to decipher who the kid’s father was from passers-by.

By the time they were done there, with no real results of course, Lorne seemed over his anger and John was reluctant to ask again.

~o~o~o~o~

After they had returned to Atlantis John was concerned. Lorne seemed alright after the incident but he was unusually quiet for the rest of the day, and responded with short sentences to any question directed at him. It was a lucky thing that during the debate it was Rodney’s turn to talk about the Industrial Revolution and its effects and not theirs, because John didn’t think he could do it alone and Lorne was clearly not in the mood.

Woolsey was also very worried about the incident when John and Lorne reported it to him, but John knew that there was nothing to be done about it. It was to be expected that people would be afraid of them or find what they represented disturbing. Even Lorne had agreed to that, and Woolsey let it go after an entire lecture about keeping safe and never spending time alone with people they were unsure they could trust.

After that they were free to return to their duties. Lorne muttered something about requisition forms and was gone, and John had had an entire shower to come to the conclusion that he had better check if Lorne was really alright. Their new relationship was still fragile and John wasn’t sure where the lines were yet, what was allowed and what was out of bounds, but he felt it was his duty to do this.

John got dressed quickly, went through the useless ritual of trying to comb his hair and eventually went down to Lorne’s office.

Lorne’s office was on a different floor than John’s, but like his quarters it was near a transporter and was within easy reach. John was there not long after leaving his quarters, but was surprised that when he rang the Ancient doorbell he got no reply.

“Lorne, come in,” John tapped his radio and called him. Lorne was the responsible type, John trusted him to always have his earpiece on, and he really didn’t want a repeat of the time he had searched for Lorne for hours without using his radio. “Lorne!”

Or he might be wrong. Lorne wasn’t responding and John was starting to get really worried. It wasn’t like him not to answer, and John hoped that he hadn’t been clubbed in the head like the last time he didn’t respond to a hail. It also wasn’t like Lorne to lock his door, but when John tried to get in the doors remained firmly in place.

John looked around him at the hallway, but Lorne’s office was secluded and few other offices were located on the same floor. Heighmeyer’s old office was one of the few available, and no one had claimed it since her death at the hands of the John-look-alike crystal. Nevertheless, John was already at the spot and decided to check Lorne’s office and quarters before raising the alarm.

John hadn’t been friends with Rodney McKay for so long for nothing. He took out his pocket knife and expertly removed the panel covering the three crystals of the door control. Then he removed the middle crystal and brought his knife to bridge between the two uncovered conduits that ran parallel to the wall. John was immensely proud when the door opened with a soft hiss, and did a quick job of getting everything back in place before stepping inside.

Lorne’s office was empty at first glance. A stack of papers stood neatly organized on the desk and next to it was Lorne’s earpiece, carefully laid out beside his laptop. Lorne’s laptop was playing the screensaver, showing that it had not been in use for the last few minutes, and a magnificent plant was busy opening its flowers to the last rays of the sun that had filtered through the curtain on Lorne’s window. John remembered that plant from his previous visit to Lorne’s office, but last time it wasn’t in full bloom.

Another thing that was different from the time John was last there was that the balcony door was open when it was usually closed. John walked towards the door and peeked outside, relieved when he found Lorne leaning against the rail and basking in the light of the setting sun.

Lorne apparently spotted the movement in his peripheral vision and he turned around, tensing up and ready to fight if necessary. Well, people here could never be too careful, John thought approvingly. He’d have probably done the same.

Lorne relaxed when he spotted John, smiling a small and tired smile before turning around and resuming gazing at the vast ocean that stretched across the horizon. It was a clear invitation, and John was happy to oblige.

“Came to see if I’m alright?” Lorne asked quietly. John had expected the words to sound accusing, but they were said in a conversational tone, like stating a fact.

“Well, you weren’t exactly behaving ‘alright’ today, were you?” John replied with a fact-in-the-form-of-a-question of his own.

Lorne turned to look at John and John noticed that when framed by the ocean, his eyes were amazingly blue. The wind was playing with his short hair and mussing it, and the look suited him more than being combed and neat. Like, a sudden thought occurred to John, after having sex. John ducked his head and looked at the rail his fingers gripped too tightly, almost missing what Lorne said next in his surprise at his own thoughts.

“It was a shock, to come face to face with such behavior. That’s all,” Lorne said, turning back to look at the setting sun. “I’ve read about it, but I never expected to run across it in person. All I did was help that kid, and they behaved like I was trying to eat him up,” he added, voice tight.

Of course Lorne would never expect to come across such behavior, why would he? “Yes, well, this is why Noman wants our help, right? To fix that. Besides, up until now playing married had gone smoothly, it was to be expected that things wouldn’t always be so easy,” John said practically, well aware that it was not the consolation Lorne needed but unable to come up with anything better. He wasn’t good at these sorts of things, and Lorne wasn’t Teyla that John could hug awkwardly and be done with it.

“Isn’t every marriage like that?” Lorne gave John a sardonic smile, changing the subject and trying to lighten the mood. John sighed, relieved, needing the mood to change and grabbing Lorne’s comment with both hands. He was awkward about giving or receiving comfort, and despite his developing friendship with Lorne he still didn’t know the man all that well.

John snorted, smiling back at Lorne. “You don’t have to tell me about it,” he responded. “I’ve been there already. Hell, I’m surprised you and I lasted as long as we did, even if we’re only pretending,” John said, only half joking. He also wasn’t good at that whole being married stuff.

Lorne’s eyes reflected a strange emotion, but he averted them too quickly for John to decipher it and it was getting dark now that the sun had already set. “I didn’t know you were married until you mentioned it,” he commented mildly.

“There was never much to know. It happened, it didn’t last. It was probably doomed from the start, and it’s over,” John said, shrugging. Him and Nancy was something so into the past that John didn’t think about it too much. As a matter of fact, he never really felt a change in his life once they were married or after they divorced, probably because he had never quit his job or asked for reassignment after the wedding or after the separation.

Lorne looked at him curiously, his face now illuminated only by the glow from the city’s spires that were starting to light up with the falling darkness. “Why did you break up?” he asked, hesitant. John knew that he, too, didn’t know what was considered as too much and where the lines were drawn. It was reassuring, somehow, to know that he wasn’t alone in it.

John breathed in the cool night air, leaning against the rail next to Lorne. “She couldn't handle my long absences and the secrecy of my job, so she wanted a divorce,” he said shortly. Not that John could blame Nancy. In two years she had seen him four times, when he was on leave.

“Did you want it as well?” Lorne asked in a quiet voice.

“My father said that marrying her was the best thing I had ever done,” John shrugged it off.

“That’s not what I asked,” Lorne pointed out, surprising him. John realized that he was right, he hadn’t answered the question that was asked, even if that was the answer he had given most people who asked in the past, and looked at Lorne for a long moment without answering. Lorne returned the gaze with steady eyes, never once backing away.

“No, it wasn’t,” John finally acknowledged, feeling his lips lift up in a small smile. “I loved her, but I don’t think we were good for each other. Now she’s with someone who makes her happy,” he said truthfully, not entirely sure why he was telling Lorne all that. Lorne turned away, the wind picking up his short hair and making his shirt ripple, but he didn’t move despite the coolness of the falling night’s air.

“I told you that when…” John tried to remember when Lorne had even learned of his marriage, and it took him a while to remember that it was after the time Rodney had nearly exposed their little role play to the entire city. It was hard to keep track of his and Rodney’s arguments these days, there were so many of them.

“When Woolsey and McKay were teaching us how to touch each other and behave around each other like a married couple,” Lorne supplied.

It made John think of a few questions he also had in mind and wanted to ask. “Are you okay with that?”

“With you being divorced?” Lorne asked back, confused.

“With the physical contact,” John clarified. “Does it bother you?”

Lorne’s face turned stony. “Would you like the poster boy’s answer or the truth?” he asked, causing John to look at him sharply. Lorne knew how John felt about poster boys. The poster boy would hate another man touching him, of course, would hate the very insinuation that he was breaking the rules. Despite John knowing what Lorne’s answer would be, in light of the choices Lorne had given him, he was curious.

“The truth.”

Lorne turned away, his face turning to the darkness of the ocean and the unlit side of his balcony. “No, it doesn’t bother me,” he admitted softly.

“Really?” John wished he could see Lorne’s face at that moment. But his answer, when it came, was honest enough.

“It’s nice… to be embraced,” Lorne said haltingly. “Even if it's just pretence. We're far away from everything we know and it's easy to feel lonely. Especially when I'm the second highest ranking military officer,” he explained, sighing. “It’s not that I don’t have any friends. I have many. But I can’t really talk to my teammates or other military personnel in the city without breaking our commander-subordinate relationship, and none of the civilians really understand. Not everything.”

Somehow, to John, it made perfect sense. John felt like that too sometimes. Teyla understood him better than anyone in the city did, but she came from a different mentality than he had and sometimes couldn’t really grasp the true meaning and implications of the things that dictated John’s life. Rodney was a Canadian civilian scientist and had little relation to the army, much less to the US military which he disdained. And Ronon, while being a specialist and a military man himself, had come from a world where the dangers were different and the rules and norms were even more so.

Being a ranking officer in a city where you couldn’t afford to break the distance between you and your men in case it got them killed was hard. And as much as John loved his team – and he did, they were his family – sometimes they couldn’t understand. Not really.

John didn’t know why he did it. Maybe because it was cold, maybe because of the sudden impact Lorne’s words had had on him and maybe because he wanted a physical contact with Lorne, but John moved a few inches to the right until his shoulder was pressed against Lorne’s.

The contact of hot skin under thin clothes was soothing, a source of warmth against the chilliness of the night.

Lorne raised surprised and startled eyes at John, the question clear in them, and John shrugged against Lorne’s shoulder. “For warmth,” he lied, his tone defensive, and for a moment thought that it was the wrong thing to do because Lorne’s body tensed up. But then something in Lorne’s eyes gave in, his expression changing, and he returned his face to the shadows where the city’s glowing lights didn’t reach.

John didn’t know what Lorne’s expression had morphed into and would have given a lot to be able to see him. But whatever it was, it couldn’t be a bad thing since Lorne’s body relaxed against him and he leaned into the touch, his hand coming to rest so close to John’s own on the rail that their fingers brushed.

Lorne was right, it was nice. Pressed close to each other in silence on the cold balcony, John really did feel better.


	7. Chapter 7

John was busy with Rodney and Ronon in the gym. Actually, he was enjoying himself watching Ronon train Rodney in hand to hand combat while pretending he had something to do with his Banto rods.

“You have to keep trying to guess your enemy, McKay,” Ronon said, circling around Rodney slowly. John could see that Rodney wanted to snap something at him but refrained, and didn’t even bother to cover his smirk. “You have to always stay focus. Are you focused, McKay?” Ronon asked.

“I’m always focused,” Rodney retorted, panting and blinking sweat from his eyes. He was annoyed, John knew, because he had been training with Ronon for close to an hour, his shirt was soaked with sweat, his muscles ached (as he kept complaining to John every time Ronon knocked him down), and he hadn’t even scored a single blow. Ronon hadn’t even broken a sweat.

Around them other people were training as well. Teyla was training with Doctor Ambrose on the far side of the room, Miller was practicing his Krav Maga and Stevens and Walker were facing each other with long wooden staffs in their hands. John knew it was a legacy from Lorne who, like some of the SGC personnel, had trained with Teal’c.

Just as John looked at them Walker attacked, a short string of succinct blows that sent Stevens back and almost into John.

John moved away hastily, looking at the two embarrassed men in front of him as they snapped to attention, flushed and panting. “If you can’t control your range, maybe it would better if you take a private room for that,” John said warningly.

“We’re sorry, sir. It won’t happen again!” Walker promised him, standing up even straighter. John sighed.

“As you were,” he said dismissively, turning back to Rodney and Ronon only to discover that he had missed Rodney going down again. However, just as he turned to give Walker and Stevens a quick check up while Rodney got up, the door opened and Lorne marched in.

“Walker, Stevens,” he called, exuberant and refreshed from the trip to Olam earlier that day. “We’re going to 037, gear up,” he said once he had his teammates’ attention, smiling when he saw what they were doing before he came in. “How’s the training going?”

Walker practically preened as he answered his team leader. “I’m beating the crap out of him, sir,” he announced smugly. Stevens looked at Lorne with a rueful smile, but didn’t seem to take his defeat to heart.

Lorne nodded his approval, and John could see that both his men were basking in it. They admired him, John realized. “Well, go get changed and geared up. Edison’s team will meet us in the Jumper bay in forty minutes,” Lorne announced, jerking his head towards the exit to expedite Walker and Stevens.

Only when Walker and Stevens were out did Lorne spot John, approaching him and smiling warmly. “Hi,” he greeted quietly, tone warm, low and private, moving closer to John. John, on his part, moved a few inches to the left on the wall he was leaning against so that Lorne would have room to stand between him and the barrel of wooden staffs.

“Going off world again?” John asked, indicating Lorne’s attire. He was wearing his vest and holding his P-90 close, ready to go. John caught a whiff of Lorne’s shampoo as Lorne leaned close and knew that he had taken a shower earlier.

By the end of their first week on Olam John and Lorne had managed to establish a pretty comfortable position. They were greeted very nicely every time they arrived, and had already dined with most state officials who could tolerate the presence of a gay couple in their home. In fact, people seemed so eager to have them that John was beginning to think that it was the latest fashion, hosting the gay aliens. When he had told Lorne that, Lorne was laughing so hard he actually fell out of his chair.

The incident with the kid and his father wasn’t repeated, but after it John became even more acutely aware of the fact that some of the stares they were receiving were not all that friendly. He had insisted that they all carry weapons and radios with them at all times if they were not in their designated room in Noman’s office, and Woolsey agreed and added also that Ronon or Teyla must stay with John and Lorne at all times, unless they were meeting someone they trusted beyond doubt and were going to an isolated location.

Even touching Lorne was easier, mainly because it never went beyond hugs and holding hands. After the conversation they had had on Lorne’s balcony he didn’t mind it much anymore if he was required to hold Lorne, and sometimes even initiate a sort of semi-intimate gesture for the sake of their ever present audience. There wasn’t any barrier to hold John back anymore now that he knew he wasn’t imposing on Lorne when touching him, nothing that John’s subconscious rebelled against, so John gladly did his part in keeping up appearances.

Lorne himself seemed to be feeling just like John did because he now smiled more in John’s presence, spoke of personal things to John when they were alone, and even stopped apologizing whenever he would step into John’s arms and cuddle close to him without warning. Teyla and Rodney didn’t miss the change in their interaction, but Rodney being Rodney simply huffed and Teyla being Teyla simply sent him a knowing smile.

“Yeah, the SGC wants me to perform a radius evaluation. Apparently the Tok’ra need Naquadah now more than ever, and following the Orii occupation of the galaxy they were deprived of some of their usual mines,” Lorne explained, watching with amusement when Rodney jumped in his place merely because Ronon sneezed.

“So we’re hoping to score some points with the Tok’ra by giving them some of our suddenly very large supply of Naquadah,” John summarized.

“That’s right. They want to bring in three or four teams, depending on the results of the tests I do today,” Lorne replied.

“Well, they’re lucky that they have you, aren’t they?” John commented absently. He knew that the SGC was very keen on the possibility of mining Naquadah with no pesky natives around. That they kept sending Lorne back to M5R-037 for more tests without even caring that they were only adding to the strain he was already under with all those trips to Olam was making it very obvious. Lorne didn’t seem to be worried, and was happily conveying them information and data from scans he had preformed with the Ancient devices that were still operating on the planet, helping them pick a suitable team and equip them with all the suitable tools for when the Deadalus would be leaving for Atlantis.

“Mind if I come along?” John asked suddenly.

Lorne looked surprised at John’s request. “Uh… sure. If you want to, we could always use an extra pair of hands,” he said, dismayed, but didn’t question John about why he wanted to tag along. It was good, because John wasn’t sure he would have had a good enough answer.

It really wasn’t his kind of thing, walking around a deserted planet and looking for rocks. It sounded boring, not to mention that the last time he did it he ended up with an evil doppelganger on the loose in Atlantis. But the truth was, he wanted to come mainly because of Lorne. Lorne was excited every time he talked about that planet and John wanted to see what all the fuss was about, wanted to see what had gotten him so happy.

“Why did you become a mining engineer?” John asked out of curiosity.

Lorne shrugged. “It was useful. I had a choice between many things at the academy, and that was the subject that sounded most like it could secure me positions in interesting places. And it did,” he answered easily.

Rodney called something at them with his back to them, and John and Lorne shared a confused look. “What was that, Doc?” Lorne called back.

Rodney’s reply was once more unintelligible, though John could make out that it was a question by the tone of voice. When Rodney realized that no one was answering him he spun around, face red and chest heaving for breath.

“I said-” he began exasperatedly, looking annoyed, before ducking and spinning around just in time to avoid the blow Ronon send his way. “We’ve agreed that this is a time out! I saw that! See? Focused!” he complained, but he was still smiling gleefully at having caught Ronon when he turned to John and Lorne again.

Rodney had just enough time to open his mouth before Ronon’s rods brought him down to the mattress face first. John winced as Rodney whimpered, and stepped forward to help him stand.

“That’s enough for today, Chewie,” John told Ronon mildly above Rodney’s groan, and Ronon shrugged.

“That was a time out! As in, _we’re having a break_!” Rodney griped when he got his breath back, glaring at Ronon while Ronon handed him a towel. “At any rate, I asked if I could come with you too. I’m very interested in that Ancient drilling platform you’ve found. I’ve looked it up in the database and it should be similar to the mobile drilling platform we left behind on Lantea,” Rodney babbled on, wiping the sweat from his face with the towel and completely forgetting about his irritation with Ronon.

“Are you sure you want to go? You said you had a million things to do, didn’t you?” John asked, remembering Rodney complaining about the lack of brain power in Atlantis and how he was the one who needed to do everything on his own. And not only on Atlantis.

Rodney, after a few days spent with the scientific community of Olam (though he would rather eat a lemon pie than call any of them that, John knew) had insisted that he needed help. The mystery surrounding the Wraith lack of interest or awareness of Olam bothered Rodney greatly, and eventually he got Radek to agree to come with him and Ronon to carry the loads of equipment he insisted he needed with him. Needless to say that the scientific community of Olam was overwhelmed.

“I’ll be fine,” Rodney dismissed John’s words. “So, when do we leave?”

Lorne looked at Rodney up and down. “As soon as you get changed,” he teased lightly, and Rodney looked down at himself as well, grimacing.

“Right. I’ll uh… meet you there?”

“Sure thing, Doc. Thirty five minutes.”

Thirty five minutes later Rodney and John met Lorne’s and Edison’s teams in the Jumper Bay, all ready to go.

“You wanna drive?” Lorne asked as they boarded Jumper 8 and the men settled on the benches in the rear compartment, leaving the forward section for John, Rodney, Edison and Lorne. 

“I’ll drive us back,” John promised and Lorne sat behind the controls, bringing them through the gate and onto M5R-037 without a hitch. To John’s surprise, the planet was green with groves on mountain sides, and even though a dust giant could be seen in the horizon, the sun was yellow and warm.

“I always imagined these places as giant rocks,” John commented while Lorne navigated them towards their destination.

“I can understand why you would think that, but in truth Naquadah enriches the soil and makes it more fertile. Most places with Naquadah are flourishing, making the land good for farming, and that’s the reason why it’s so hard to find abandoned planets to mine it. It makes a very supportive environment,” Lorne explained, coming down to land next to what really did look like a mobile drilling station half buried in the rock.

“Is that supposed to be like that?” John asked, pointing at the towering, lifeless machine.

“Yes. It needs to reach deep underground to get to the richer veins,” Lorne smiled, turning around to the teams sitting in the Jumper’s rear compartment. “Okay, people. We’re going to conduct a simple radius test. We’ll split directions and I want you to look for Naquadah on the ground. You should be able to see it right away, it’s gray and Quartz like, you’ve seen it before. The thinner the Naquadah gets the smaller the veins are. When you reach an area where there’s no sign of Naquadah radio me and I’ll come check. Let’s go,” Lorne instructed, clapping his hands once when he was done while Stevens opened the rear hatch.

“You can come with me, I’ll show you what to look for,” Lorne offered John discreetly, allowing the rest of the men to leave first. Edison was assigning each of them a direction to go to and Rodney was making his way towards the drilling station, already typing away on his computer tablet.

Lorne took John out into the shadow of the station and knelt, picking a seemingly random rock from the ground. John knelt beside him, leaning close to see what was so special about it. “This rock contains traces of Naquadah,” Lorne explained. “You see the small, glass like crystals on the side here? It means that when this rock was formed underground it was formed in an environment containing Naquadah and it still carries traces of it.”

Suddenly Lorne took John’s hand in his and placed it on the rock, his fingers covering John’s and guiding them to feel the rock’s surface. “Feel this? Like sand paper?” Lorne asked, and John suddenly noticed that Lorne’s voice was low pitched and soft, and Lorne’s hand was warm and gentle. He nodded jerkily, and Lorne let go of his hand and put the rock down, smiling at him.

“Now let’s see if you can find another one,” he challenged, indicating the ground around them, and John looked down, trying to remember what Lorne had said instead of the tone of his voice and the feel of his hand.

John picked a rock up, surveying it until he found the glass-like crystals on the underside. It wasn’t as though it was a real challenge, searching for Naquadah traces on what was probably the dead center of the richest vein around, but John held it up nonetheless.

“This one okay, Evan?” he called, presenting the rock in his hand, and the world seemed to freeze around him. Rodney stopped just short of the station’s entrance and turned to look at him with alarm, Edison and his men became quiet and watched with amazed eyes and Lorne raised his head from some sort of a device he was fiddling with, startled.

John had idiotically used Lorne’s first name.

Being with Lorne for most hours of the day for over a week and now having Lorne hold his hand had caused John to forget where he was. It was a slip of the tongue, but a stupid one and an unfortunate one, considering the audience they had.

In the silence that followed John’s question Lorne’s footsteps were loud and echoing as he approached John and took the rock from his hands. After a quick inspection he smiled, showing none of his earlier surprise, and returned it to John. “It’s exactly right, sir,” he told John warmly, like John used his first name all the time and his turn of phrase was nothing unusual. “I think you can take north-west. Edison, you got someone covering that area yet?” he called, projecting business as usual.

“Billick’s covering that area. How about south?” Edison asked, and John allowed himself to breathe once again. The other men returned to looking at the map they had in their hands but Rodney still lingered just outside the station, observing.

“South okay with you, sir?” Lorne asked, and John shrugged.

“Don’t have anything in particular against it,” he said casually, and Lorne smiled a small and private smile at him before walking over to Edison to talk about radio contact.

John turned his back to them and sighed. He was getting too comfortable with Lorne. Up until now he had disliked the man, and it wasn’t a big secret. Now he had let it slip to Edison and his team that he and Lorne were practically on a first name basis. That they were friends all of a sudden.

Or worse – lovers. That was what John would have assumed if he had observed such behavior. Why else would they suddenly be this thick? Call each other this intimately? Why else would Lorne be holding his hand and talking with such a pitched voice, so close to John’s ear?

It seemed like Lorne was forgetting himself too. Their pretence was overlapping the reality and they were slipping, both of them. They needed some time apart, some privacy after returning from Olam to clear their heads.

As John started walking south, he made up his mind to talk to Lorne about it. He was sure that Lorne would agree.

~o~o~o~o~

John, however, never got the chance to talk to Lorne about his conclusions after going to M5R-037. They were so busy that it slipped his mind.

On their next visit to Olam after M5R-037 the gate platform had been exposed just enough that they were able to come with Jumpers, shocking the entire crowd of curious viewers into speechlessness. None of them had ever seen flying machines, and John and Lorne took turns taking Jumpers full of people up to space to see their planet from high above.

It was Woolsey’s idea, taking the Jumpers, born from thinking that by showing off their capabilities they’d tilt the balance a little more in their favor. It was the pinnacle in a series of demonstrations they had given the people of Olam, all of them related to technology or medicine. It started with John bringing his and Rodney’s toy racing cars with them to Olam after receiving a tour to the engineering museum, courtesy of Lorne’s friend Nahar. The engineers were so fascinated that John had to promise to get them some more to study, and all the young boys were begging him to let them drive. After that were many more technological wonders they brought with them from Atlantis, like computers and calculators, cameras and MP3 players.

True to his word, Noman allowed them to bring only harmless technologies and had ordered them not to reveal any of the manufacturing secrets to his people, claiming that he did not want to overwhelm them. Noman had agreed to bring Jumpers in only when Woolsey met with him in person on Olam and convinced him that it would make a very good impression on his voters, but they had all underestimated Shedim’s reaction.

The debates were always tense, and Lorne always seemed to react badly to them, but they were all getting better at handling the questions and diverting the subject of conversation to other channels such as development plans and the contribution an alliance between both their peoples could bring. John wasn’t sure what got Lorne so furious, but he knew that Lorne’s anger spiked whenever Shedim called either of them degrading names.

When it was time for the debate on the day they had introduced the Jumpers John and Lorne entered the amphitheater with significantly lighter hearts than usual. They had just pulled one of their winning cards, and things seemed to be going well. They took their usual seats down on the raised podium, automatically shifting to be in closer contact, and waited for the round to begin, feeling victorious and confident as they hadn’t felt in any other debate.

Shedim rose to his feet, face grave. It was his turn to choose the topic of debate, and choose it he did.

“You’ve been impressing the masses with your technology and your advancements, Colonel,” he opened, voice so solemn and hard John had to fight the urge to flinch. “But you have yet to prove to us one very important thing during your visits here,” he paused and looked at John and Lorne with penetrating eyes. “Are you the lovers you claim to be?” he asked, enraged.

“What kind of a question is that, Shedim? Have you not been here for the last few days?” someone from Noman’s party called, rising on his feet, equally as angrily.

“I have,” Shedim shot back sharply. “And during their entire time here we have yet to see some convincing evidence that these two people are truly together as they claim to be!”

“We’ve all seen how they act around each other!” someone else called.

“Indeed. They are acting around each other like I act around my brother and my sisters,” Shedim sneered, looking down at John and Lorne.

John didn’t like where this was going. They had cornered Shedim and he was lashing out with desperate measures.

“Our society is a very private one, and we are very private people, Shedim. We won’t go about turning our relationship into a street show,” Lorne answered coolly, eyes hard.

“So you keep on saying. I think that you’re here merely to steal our ancestors’ treasures, and are trying to get us to turn a blind eye by impressing us with your ships and the superiority of your technology. I think that you are not, in fact, the lovers you claim to be and that your motives and interests are questionable at best,” Shedim said derisively, causing the entire room to erupt into a heated argument where not even the neutral observers could be heard.

John had learned enough of the politics of Olam to know that the swiftly escalating fight was a very rare thing, and was amazed that the subject of his and Lorne’s alleged relationship was causing such a strong reaction. It had brought home just how loaded and serious the whole homosexuality issue was to these people. He knew that punishments would be issued by the neutral observers to all those who violated the order, as soon as the observers could make themselves heard.

As it was, it was only the shrill gong-like tool that signaled the end of the debate that finally got everyone to settle down, and the debaters were sent home for the meantime until the heads of each party could be contacted and spoken with regarding the entire ordeal.

Once the debate was over Noman ushered them out and away from the angry dispute that had resumed outside of the amphitheater and into one of the carts of the transport that had just stopped in their station, a worried frown adorning his forehead.

“Noman, you’re not worried about what he said, are you?” Lorne asked, concerned himself. John watched Noman carefully and had a nasty feeling that he was. That somehow something wasn’t going according to Noman’s plan.

“Actually, I am,” Noman confessed, looking at Lorne with eyes that were almost as sharp as Shedim’s were. “Because Shedim is right. Or, the most accurate thing to say is that he is not the only one who has noticed that more than trying to advance my party’s interest, we’re all busy with the alliance between our worlds. While this is a matter of outmost importance in its own merits, this is not the right time to discuss it. We need to get back on subject, and we need to make everyone believe that Shedim’s words were the act of a desperate man and not a lone righteous man,” he looked at John and Lorne with determined eyes.

“The people of Olam need to know the truth. By continuing as you have thus far, they never will,” he stated, and John looked down at the bottom of the cart and cursed inwardly.

Noman had no idea just how wrong he was. If these people learned that they’d been lied to, the alliance would never happen and their precious ZPMs would be unreachable. The people of Olam must not know that truth. At the same time, if things continued as they have, the people of Olam were bound to know the truth despite their best efforts. Shedim would see to that.

He really should have known it wouldn’t be this easy.

~o~o~o~o~

Woolsey, of course, wasn’t happy at all about the turn of events. His face grew graver and graver while John and Lorne told him about the debate and Noman’s comment, and at the end of it he was quiet for a long time.

“It worries me that things got so out of hand,” Woolsey said finally, his fingers interlacing on the conference table’s surface. “To think that they would break their own rules and disturb the debate is a cause for concern,” he looked up at Lorne and John, who were sitting close together without even being aware of it. John, worried, turned to look at Lorne as well and wondered who sat first, and how long had they been unconsciously sitting like this.

“As a matter of fact,” Woolsey sighed as he spoke on, “I fear for your safety. These elections seem more intense than I first thought. This is not just about the ZPMs anymore. If things go the wrong way…” he trailed off, but he didn’t need to say more. Pictures of what could happen were already running through John’s head, taken from Earth’s own bloodied gay history.

“I’m seriously thinking of abandoning this mission-” Woolsey started, but was cut off by both John and Lorne.

“_No_!” they called in unison. The cry was wrenched from John’s lips without him even thinking about it. He didn’t know why he had said it so vehemently, especially since all he had wanted at first was for this to be over with and to take some time apart from Lorne. But when presented with the option John knew only one thing for certain – they _couldn’t_ stop now.

Woolsey, Keller, Teyla and Ronon were all looking at John and Lorne, surprised and dismayed by their reaction. “Colonel? Major?” Woolsey inquired finally when John couldn’t think of anything to say and Lorne remained stubbornly silent as well.

Lorne sighed. “It’s just a shame to stop after everything we’ve done so far. We can do it, and we need those ZPMs,” he explained, studiously not looking at John, and John was relieved. The explanation sounded reasonable, and could probably justify John’s strong objections to the mere thought of calling everything off.

Woolsey looked gravely back at Lorne. “Major, I don’t think that you fully understand the situation. Be it through outside threats or by the risk to your own careers, you are both in danger. We can do without the ZPMs, but we can’t do without you-”

“Of course you can,” John cut Woolsey off for the second time. If Woolsey was trying to convince them through flattery, it wasn’t going to work. “Everyone’s replaceable,” he reminded Woolsey.

“True. But while I’m sure that Doctors McKay and Zelenka would continue to prove to be assets to the expedition, I’m not sure there’s anyone who’s…” Woolsey seemed to search for the right word.

“Crazy enough,” Ronon offered easily. John looked at him, irritated.

“Thanks buddy,” John told him sarcastically.

“Anytime,” Ronon grinned, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers together behind his head.

Woolsey wasn’t amused. “I’ll use that, for lack of a better term. I’m not sure that we can find anyone who’s crazy enough to pull Atlantis out of trouble like you have done in the past and will undoubtedly continue to do in the future despite my best efforts to stop it. I don’t think you’ll be of much use to the city sitting in Leavenworth or dead,” Woolsey said bluntly, causing John to shoot him a sharp glance.

Teyla hurriedly cut in before John could argue about that, eyes intent. “Mr. Woolsey, perhaps there’s a way to solve things without inflicting damage to the Colonel and the Major’s lives or careers?” she asked, looking at all the participants of the briefing.

Keller suddenly leaned forward, eyes lighting up. “Pictures!” she exclaimed excitedly. “A picture is worth a thousand words, right? So how about we bring them an entire album of them?” she explained after facing the blank expressions of the others.

“Go on, Doctor. What did you have in mind?” Woolsey asked, curious.

“All we need is somewhere to photograph the Colonel and the Major posing intimate scenes in front of a black screen and then I can fit backgrounds to each picture using an image editing software. We can create them a lifetime’s worth of pictures to prove our claim that they’re married,” she told Woolsey, smiling hopefully at him.

John frowned. “When you say ‘intimate scenes’ you don’t mean…” he looked at Lorne, who was still not looking at him, then turned back to Keller. “_Intimate scenes_, right?” he asked.

Keller shook her head, amusement playing on her face. “No, Colonel. I mean pictures taken at home on the couch, or at the beach, at a restaurant, amusement parks, places couples go to and take pictures at,” she clarified. “All you have to do is sit or stand together. I’ll make it look like the pictures were taken on different days and different locations,” she added.

“You can do that?” Teyla asked with wonderment.

“Of course. It’s a piece of cake,” Keller assured her.

“I think it’s worth a shot,” Ronon commented shortly, shrugging when Woolsey looked at him with surprise. 

Woolsey took his time before answering, looking at each of them for a long while. Eventually he sighed and looked down at the table. “You will be careful, Colonel, Major,” he said, and it was not a request or a recommendation. “And you will be _discreet and alert_.”


	8. Chapter 8

Keller and Teyla chose a deserted room on the outskirts of the city for the photo shoot. It was in one of the more boring hallways of Atlantis, full of dusty Ancient bedrooms that no one had ever bothered to clear out and make livable again. No one went there so they were not likely to be interrupted.

Teyla and Keller needed some time to organize the place, so John and Lorne had just enough time to have lunch and change their clothes before reporting. They met each other in the hallway leading to the room and walked together in silence, each carrying a stack of clothes like Keller had asked.

John thought that faking pictures of them was a good idea. It required little effort on their part and with any hope might convince the people of Olam that they were a normal couple. As much as gay couples could be normal.

It also didn’t require him to be in such close contact with Lorne, especially not in public. After what happened on M5R-037 he needed to be careful around the city whenever he had to meet with Lorne, because his slip of tongue brought home just how dangerous their closeness was, even if it was only a façade. The first thing that came out of his mouth when thinking of Lorne was still the name ‘Evan’, and whenever Lorne was around John unconsciously moved closer. The most disturbing thing was that after they had returned from M5R-037 and disbanded to their rooms, John saw Lorne watching the stars alone from a public balcony, and had the fleeting thought that Lorne was only waiting for John to come and hold him from behind.

They needed to step back a little, and John was hoping that the pictures would give them some breathing space. He had no idea whether he was grasping at straws but he didn’t have a lot of options, especially since he had turned down the offer to quit, something he was still struggling to come up with a good reason for.

When John and Lorne entered the room it was to find Teyla dragging the last of the dead plants in Ancient planters to one corner and Keller hanging a large black sheet across the window to block out the sunlight. Torren was asleep in a small carrier in the corner and seemed undisturbed by the noise around him.

Keller smiled when they entered the room and closed the door behind them, motioning that they leave their clothes on a chair for lack of a better place. “Hi, you guys ready?” she asked cheerfully, indicating a camera she had positioned on a tripod facing the black sheet.

“What’s all this?” Lorne asked, raising an expressive eyebrow and gesturing at the unusual set.

“Well, I’m going to take pictures of you against that black sheet, and later I’ll replace the black with different scenery using a picture editing program,” she explained. “I’ll paste in a balcony, a snowy mountain, the beach, an amusement park, a restaurant, the city… anything that comes to mind,” she enthused. She was looking at Lorne, who was standing just behind John, when her face suddenly became serious, though when John turned to look at him too Lorne’s face was deceptively blank.

“I assure you, Major, Colonel, that we will be discreet. Nothing that we do today will leave this room, and I’ll delete every reference material as soon as we have the pictures in our hands,” she promised them both solemnly. John was relieved at hearing that. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Keller, it was that he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of compromising pictures of him and Lorne circulating around the city.

Lorne smiled at her tolerantly. “Okay, Doc. Where do you want us to stand and what do you want us to do?”

Keller shared a look with Teyla. “Let’s take a few trial shots first, so just stand in front of the sheet, shoulder to shoulder, and smile,” she instructed, and John and Lorne came to stand in front of the camera close together. Keller switched on a few spotlights like those Rodney had placed in the flooded corridors after the big storm that first year, and then started adjusting the camera to her satisfaction. Teyla was watching with evident interest.

John and Lorne fell into position easily enough, coming to stand next to each other and smiling for the camera like any two friends would do when asked to take a picture together. Their shoulders brushed, but there was nothing unusual about that. They had had more physical contact on Olam. Keller snapped a few photos to her satisfaction, and Teyla informed her that the cable she had connected to the camera transferring the pictures straight to her laptop was working.

“Good!” Keller announced cheerfully. “It’s exactly right,” she added and straightened up. “How about we start with something you’re familiar with, like hugs and simple physical contact?” she asked.

Funnily enough, John was relieved that she had offered that. Touching Lorne was easy. It was familiar. He did it all the time, and the more he did that, the more John’s hands became accustomed to Lorne’s figure. He knew how wide Lorne’s shoulders were, the narrowness of his hips and the firmness of his ass. He knew his height and the length of his fingers, the shape of his ears and the dip in the small of his back. All covered with clothes and all warm and strong under them.

John stepped behind Lorne, circling his hips with his hands and leaning against his broad back, feeling Lorne relaxing instantly into the touch, feeling his tense muscles melt into buttery content. There was something gratifying in the knowledge that Lorne felt safe and secure in his arms enough to completely relax, and John had no trouble smiling for Keller’s camera or burying his head in Lorne’s neck and inhaling the sharp scent of cleanliness from his aftershave.

Lorne was giving the camera a juvenile smile as well, hands covering John’s own and a foot tangling in John’s from behind, creating the illusion that it was John who came to tackle him to the ground.

Keller was enthusiastically snapping pictures, telling them to turn this way and that and sometimes to change their hold on each other, change positions or trade places for the sake of whatever it was she had in mind for later. She had them sitting and standing, kneeling and holding hands, hugging and simply smiling at each other with Teyla and the still sleeping Torren between them, and John was starting to actually enjoy himself. He wasn’t all that fond of taking pictures and he never had many pictures of his friends from Atlantis, but this was nice. He might even keep the picture of him, Lorne, Torren and Teyla when this was all over.

Then came the part where they started using accessories, and John’s enjoyment evaporated into thin air.

After John and Lorne changed their clothes for the third time in an hour, Keller and Teyla instructed them on how to arrange an Anvient beige couch in front of the camera. “This is going to be the Jumper,” Keller explained to them, taking Lorne and bringing him to stand next to John and gesturing for John to take a seat. “And you’re going to sit in your lover’s lap,” Keller instructed Lorne, who whipped around to look at her.

“I thought the whole point of taking the pictures was so that we wouldn’t be forced to do stuff like that,” Lorne said sharply. John too sat up straighter when she called him Lorne’s lover, looking at her with annoyance. It was one thing to pretend while they were on Olam, and another to keep the ridiculous act in the city, even if it was only between the four of them.

“Not in public, Major. But even with photo editing I can still only do so much,” Keller said, expression serious. “It’s a hobby of mine, not something I’ve studied, and I don’t even know where Rodney is so that he can have a go at it,” she told both of them apologetically.

“Fine. What do I do?” Lorne agreed shortly, sending her a resentful look. For some reason Keller’s expression turned sad for a second before she wiped her face clean.

“Sit in the Colonel’s lap,” Keller instructed, directing Lorne to sit on John’s knees. Their vests, which they had been asked to wear, were getting in the way and brushed, their Velcro pockets grinding against each other a few times before Lorne found a comfortable position. John felt his solid weight settle on him just right, not pressing or uncomfortable.

“Good. Now, Colonel, you put your hand on the Major’s thigh,” Keller said, taking John’s hand and placing it on Lorne’s muscular thigh. _High_ on Lorne’s muscular thigh, and John swallowed nervously. All he had to do was slide two inches up and he’s be covering Lorne’s groin.

John couldn’t help but move his hand down to try and find a more comfortable place, trying in vein to ignore the powerful limb under his fingers. When John moved his hand, however, he could feel Lorne shivering at the touch, even through the thick fabric of his vest. John silently cursed Keller, mainly because he had to consciously stop his hand from going up and down again on Lorne’s thigh just to see whether he’d shiver again.

Lorne tensed against him when Keller readjusted the camera and his hand came to rest on John’s, trying to pry it off. “Keep at it and you’ll cut off my circulation,” he muttered straight into John’s ear, leaning backwards and pressing his back to John’s chest in order to reach, his breath warm and soft against John’s sensitive shell. John turned his palm up and squeezed the hand over his, fighting the desire to move and do… something. Anything. He didn’t know what.

“I was only trying to get comfortable,” John snapped back at him.

“It will be over soon enough,” Lorne said, bringing John’s hand to its original position and interlacing their fingers together to keep him there and to keep him from clamping down on his thigh.

John was sure that he was only imagining the heat rising from Lorne’s pelvis. 

To her credit, Keller was swift and efficient as she took the pictures and released them both from the awkward position fairly quickly. “Well, considering that you play a relatively modest couple I don’t want to take pictures that are too intimate,” she said, making John breath a little more easily. “But I do think we need a picture of you on a beach together. Something more intimate to shake up all the skeptics and erase all doubts about you once and for all. So I want you to strip down to your boxers,” she added, all business like while she adjusted the camera some more.

John and Lorne didn’t move from where they were standing, both staring at her with utter shock. John didn’t know what Lorne was thinking, but he couldn’t keep repeating the simple fact that they had never had skin to skin contact before in his head. John had never touched Lorne’s naked body, and being in their boxers wasn’t really much better. Considering that he had recently been thinking of the need to step back and cool off a little, this didn’t seem like a good idea.

Keller, finished talking to Teyla, turned and was surprised that they hadn’t moved. “You know, guys hug each other on the beach all the time,” she said exasperatedly. “I won’t ask you to do anything intense or that would make you uncomfortable,” she added.

Too late, John thought. She already had.

Nevertheless, they both turned and obediently started taking off their clothes. It was strange, even though it shouldn’t have been. Keller was his doctor, knew him inside and out and had seen him in far worse situations than this. Teyla was also not an issue. The Athosians were very big on hot springs and John had taken off his clothes (or was forced to strip) in front of her enough times that she took it in good grace. And Lorne… was a guy.

John thought that that was where the problem lay. Communal showers didn’t exist on Atlantis. Even the greenest rookie had a bathroom of his own, and there were plenty more to spare. Their shower water was desalinated from the ocean around them and there was never a shortage. John hadn’t had to take off his clothes in front of any male member of the city in five years and doing it now, in front of Lorne of all people, made him uncomfortable.

But just as John and Lorne finally finished, their backs to each other, and John had resigned himself to what was about to happen, Keller’s radio crackled to life. “Doctor Keller?”

Keller’s answer was immediate, while the rest of them exchanged worried glances. The radios were not used lightly or for idle chit-chat. If someone was being hailed on the radio it was either to draw attention, summon them to someplace or announce an emergency. And Keller was the CMO of Atlantis.

“What is it, Marie?”

“There was a spill in the atropine holding case in storage two. We may need to destroy the entire batch, but I need your signature and approval,” Marie’s voice was heard over the radio, and John calmed down. It was nothing urgent.

“I’m on my way,” Keller said before ending the transmission. She turned to Lorne, John and Teyla and smiled apologetically. “This shouldn’t take very long,” she assured them. “If I know Marie she would have already figured out why that happened. I’ll be back in ten minutes, tops. Teyla can start picking out background photos in the meantime,” she looked at Teyla, who nodded, and was already at the door before giving them some final instructions.

“Stay the way you are now. It’s past noon and we have that department heads meeting soon, so we’ll need to get this done quickly. I thought we’d have more time,” she said regretfully and was gone before any of them could comment.

John checked his chronometer. It was early afternoon, 1615 AST, and the department heads did have a meeting at 1730 hours with Woolsey. It was the scheduled weekly mandatory meeting where they discussed various things that mostly bored John to death, but with all the fuss over the situation on Olam it had slipped his mind.

“I completely forgot the damn meeting,” Lorne echoed John’s thoughts, also glancing at his chronometer. As John’s second in command Lorne attended those meetings as well. John turned to look at him, and the first thing he noticed was that Lorne was cold. John could see the goose bumps on his chest, _his very fine looking chest_, and his nipples were quickly hardening under John’s gaze.

John averted his eyes guiltily. It wasn’t like communal showers. This was the man John has been hugging close for the last week and a half. The man John had been standing flush against. It was bad enough that they had to pretend, John didn’t need to know how Lorne looked under the clothes.

“Is that from the debris of Michael’s safe house?” Lorne asked suddenly, looking at the pale scar that marred John’s left hip. The scar was actually caused by Keller’s scalpel more than the iron pole that was imbedded in his body for hours on end until they were beamed out and onto the Deadalus.

“Yeah,” John said reluctantly. He remembered the incident with a sour taste in his mouth. It was a bad one, thinking that he’d failed Teyla and lost Rodney. There and then, he hadn’t even thought about Lorne, and was happy when Lorne was reported to have made it out of it with only a broken foot simply because he didn’t want to lose another good officer in addition to the rest of the men who had died that day.

Now that John looked, he could see a thin scar on Lorne’s left foot too. “I see that you have your share of memories from there,” he added, gesturing at Lorne’s foot, and Lorne cracked a smile.

“Yeah. Turned out it was a messy break. Keller gave me something in the Jumper that had me out like a light,” Lorne said lightly and John grinned, his uneasiness forgotten for a second. He loved Keller’s medicines sometimes.

“I have a few on my back, too,” John turned his back on Lorne to show him the tiny cuts that would never properly heal. He may have gotten too spoiled for communal showers, but he still remembered the one thing that was always done there, which was showing off scars. He remembered from his days in Afghanistan and other god forsaken hellholes how all the guys would cluster together, stark naked, and try to top each other with their scars and the wild stories behind them.

It was a measure of normality in an otherwise completely abnormal situation, and John found that reassuring.

“From the destruction of the gate and all that Asgard business?” Lorne asked, and John could feel gentle fingers slowly caressing down his back and over his newest scars.

“Yes,” John said, turning back and dislodging the cool fingers that still moved against his skin.

“That was too close for comfort,” Lorne’s voice was soft. “I thought we’d lost you and Radek,” he told John, serious all of the sudden, and John felt his skin prickling with unease. But just when he thought that the atmosphere between them would turn awkward Lorne’s face brightened. “I have one from the Genii,” he announced, turning to let John see his right shoulder.

Slashing the pale skin of Lorne’s left shoulder blade was an ugly, jagged scar. John felt his lip curl. “The Genii did that to you?” he asked, somewhat angrily. “When?”

“When they kidnapped me. They wanted blood from people with the gene to develop a gene therapy of their own. Tried to take it by force, but every time they grabbed my hand I’d punch them, so instead they had me restrained on the ground and cut my shoulder,” he shrugged easily, the movement making the scar stretch across his wide shoulder.

“Good,” John said approvingly, proud that Lorne gave Ladon’s people a hard time. He never had liked the Genii, no matter how closely they worked now.

Lorne turned back and John noticed a very prominent scar on Lorne’s left abdominal muscle, just beside his navel. “What about this one?” John asked, moving closer to inspect it. It looked like an ordinary appendix scar, but it was longer than necessary and somewhat jagged as well, and it rippled across Lorne’s abdominals in a way that indicated that it was an old one.

A bitter smile crossed Lorne’s face. “I got it when I was seventeen,” he said, lightly tracing the scar before letting his hand drop back to his side. “A bunch of kids didn’t like me, I guess, because I was attacked in a park after walking my date home. They beat me up so hard my appendix burst,” Lorne told John quietly, voice somewhat raw, and John found that he was more furious than he had been in a long time, even over Rodney’s big blabbering mouth.

He wanted to find those kids and beat the crap out of them with his bare hands.

“Did you know them?” John asked, his hand going up to trail the thin line almost as if compeled to, feeling the prickle of skin that grew in mismatched patches under his thumb. Lorne’s body was well developed, small pink nipples stretched over nicely shaped and lightly furred pectoral muscles. His shallow bellybutton was set on a flat plane that caused his boxers to ride low and expose the jutting bones of his pelvis. The scar was an imperfection on Lorne’s otherwise flawless skin, and it shouldn’t have been there.

“No. It didn’t matter,” Lorne’s reply was quiet, and John thought that it was only his imagination that it also sounded somewhat strangled. All he could see was the scar under his thumb, slowly being covered and uncovered as he moved his fingers up and down Lorne’s warm skin in morbid fascination.

Lorne was so close to John that John could feel Lorne’s breath against his cheek, but he was still looking down at the scar. He didn’t notice that Lorne’s hand rose up until it covered John’s, stilling John’s fingers.

The movement jolted John out of his reverie and he looked up sharply, straight into Lorne’s eyes. Lorne’s eyes were darker than usual, big and close to John’s own.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lorne repeated in a steely voice, and John knew when to back off. At least, he would have if Lorne had released his eyes and hand, but as it was Lorne jerked back only when the soft hydraulic sound of the door announced Keller’s return.

John wasn’t sure what had happened, wasn’t sure if he had asked something he wasn’t supposed to, but he did know that he was suddenly too hot all over and that Lorne was carefully not looking at him while Keller had a furious tirade over some incompetent nurse from the Deadalus.

“Let’s get this over with, Doc,” John reminded her, determined to ignore whatever it was that he’d trespassed. “Where do you want us?”

“I do not think that there will be a need for that, Jennifer,” Teyla said before Keller open her mouth. She turned Keller’s laptop, on which she’d been working during Keller’s absence, towards her.

Keller came to stand closer, leaning over Teyla’s shoulder to look at the screen, an awed expression on her face. “I think you’re right. When-”

“Just now,” Teyla cut her off, indicating the camera still stationed on the tripod with her head.

“Oh,” Keller said cryptically, before raising her head from the screen and smiling at Lorne and Sheppard. “Well, looks like you guys are off the hook,” she announced happily.

“What?” John asked, confused. Beside him, Lorne looked relieved to be putting his shirt back on and John found that he followed the line of the jagged scar on his torso from the corner of his eye until it disappeared under the plain black fabric.

“Let me just…” Teyla got up to make room for Keller to sit next to the computer and Keller clicked on a few things, causing Teyla’s eyes to widen in surprise. “There we go,” Keller said finally, turning the screen towards them.

“The pictures were being sent directly to the computer using this cable, and I was able to match the background to fit the position,” Keller explained, but John couldn’t hear a thing. All he was able to do was stare at the picture in front of him in utter shock.

In the picture were Lorne and him, stripped down to their boxers and standing in the shade of a tree on the mainland. John could recognize that beach immediately because he had been there with the scientists numerous times for various measurements. But it was him and Lorne that had him speechless.

John’s hand was touching Lorne’s uncovered stomach and Lorne’s head was bent down with his forehead nearly touching John’s, his hand on John’s own and his eyes gazing into John’s.

It happened less than five minutes ago, and still was so very different from the reality John remembered. The scene, the entire picture, screamed intimacy. The way Lorne’s eyes were locked with John’s, the closeness of their bodies, Lorne’s hand covering John’s…

It was intimate, and intense.

John knew that this was not what they did just a few moments ago, but couldn’t really argue with what he was seeing. Lorne looked at John like he was all Lorne could see, and John was returning the gaze with slightly parted lips.

This was how they looked, no matter what they talked about. This was how they looked standing close to each other, not even pretending. It brought the memory of Lorne’s warm skin under his hand back, the feeling of his breath across John’s cheek and the faint scent of his aftershave.

It disturbed John and at the same time caused his skin to prickle with the strangest of sensations.

A movement to the side made John look away. Lorne was getting dressed hurriedly, nearly tripping over his pants in his haste. John couldn’t see his face, and once again found that he’d give a lot to see his expression, just like when they were on Lorne’s office’s balcony. But when John came closer Lorne stepped away, gathering his clothes from the chair.

“I need to go,” he said, not specifying where or saying anything about the picture. John had never heard that quiet tone from him either. “Thank you,” Lorne added to Keller and Teyla.

Teyla looked at Lorne with wide eyes, brow creased. “Wait, do you not wish to see the other photos?” she asked after him, but Lorne was out of the door before she was even finished. 

John had a feeling that something had unnerved Lorne, or at least disturbed him on a very personal level. He hoped that whatever it was had nothing to do with him, and cursed for the millionth time Rodney, Keller, Olam and anyone who had ever had a hand in bringing them to their current predicament.

~o~o~o~o~

John and Lorne didn’t speak of the pictures the next day, but while John was lowering the Jumper through the hatch in the ceiling to the gate room, Ronon was taking a very lengthy look.

John really hoped that he wouldn’t say anything, mostly because that night he had dreamt about sun-bathed beaches, warm sand and an even warmer skin pressing against his naked body. It scared him more than he was willing to admit that he woke up on the verge of coming in his sweat pants.

Teyla, Keller, Rodney and Radek, who was relieved of his normal duties so that he could help Rodney decipher the secret to Olam’s immunity to the Wraith, had already seen the photos and were thus more occupied discussing other matters and were content to leave John and Lorne to the awkward silence that hovered between them.

After receiving permission to arrive with a Jumper the day before despite the friction it caused, Rodney had loaded practically everything that wasn’t attached to the floor into it, including Radek, intent of figuring out the mystery and maybe produce some viable countermeasure against the Wraith for both Atlantis and any other planet in Pegasus to use. He had commandeered Teyla and Keller too for a time, hauling them off to measure and check whatever he wanted.

With Rodney constantly off, dragging most of the team with him, John and Lorne were left mostly alone with Ronon, who since their almost attack preferred to stay back and watch for any threats as Woolsey had instructed.

John very carefully entered the event horizon, coming to a quick halt once he was on the other side. The space ship was the most interesting thing most of the people of Olam had ever seen, and their crowd of curious viewers doubled each day. John had to descend very carefully so as not to hurt any of the overly close people.

He landed the ship in Noman’s back garden, the same one Keller was so excited about, and walked right pass Rodney’s angry exclamations that there weren’t enough people to carry his equipment out.

Outside Noman was waiting, surrounded by the magnificent blooms of the spring season. “Colonel Sheppard, Major Lorne,” he greeted, his face grim.

“Noman. Is everything alright?” Lorne, always present at John’s side, asked with concern. Noman really did look unlike himself. He was tired, a little rumpled and had a heaviness to his eyes that wasn’t there the day before.

“We need to talk,” Noman said, “please come with me.” John and Lorne exchanged looks but followed, leaving Rodney to take care of everything.

Noman led them through the garden in grave silence. The garden was its usual beauty, white stones making a pathway across it and a fountain bringing coolness to the air. The distant, tall trees rustled with a light breeze and the flowers gave off heady smells. But John didn’t see all that. He was busy trying to understand what was going on, and wondering whether he should be prepared for a quick evacuation. It wouldn’t be the first time off-world political winds changed overnight, only this time he feared for his and Lorne’s safety.

Noman led them to his office, usually a place John considered as a refuge, and gestured for them to sit.

“Noman, what’s wrong?” Lorne asked worriedly, voice sharper than before, more demanding. John could feel Lorne’s muscles tightening as he sat next to him, his hand discreetly shifting to be within easy reach of his sidearm. He was thinking along the same lines as John.

“After you left yesterday, Shedim and myself were called to Manhig for counseling,” Noman placed his hands carefully on the table, looking at John and Lorne with sharp eyes. Manhig, John knew, was the person who led the neutral observers and who repeated the Oaths at the beginning of every debate. “I will not tire you with the details of the argument that took place then, but in the end of it the neutral observers sided with Shedim.”

John’s heart began to race faster. “Sided with Shedim about what, exactly?”

“Shedim claimed that you’re lying. The neutral observers didn’t outright call you liars, but they did agree that you lack credibility. So they sided with Shedim, who wants you to stay on Olam starting today and until the elections, as an act to show your trustworthiness,” Noman said heavily.

John shared an assessing look with Lorne. This was beyond being gay or not, this was about their credibility as the representatives of Atlnatis. Faced with such a request, it was obvious that presenting the fake photos was pretty much useless. “Stay as in overnight? How would that make us more credible?” Lorne asked, suspicious and confused.

Noman pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have been misleading you,” he began, and John sighed inwardly. He didn’t like conversations that began with those words. The last time he had heard those words was when Nancy told him that she had been misleading him when she told him that his frequent absences from home didn’t bother her. That was right before they had the big fight that led to their divorce.

“I have been misleading you when I allowed you to believe that the fact that you are aliens does little to bother us. I have heard the old legends my entire life, of our ancestors and of the stars they had visited and the terrible enemy they had awoken. I have learned them from an historical perspective for most of my adult life.

“Most people on Olam, however, did not. When they look at you they see people who are more advanced than us, who can use the Ring as they please while we are still only beginning to explore its uses, who come and go as they please and who tell stories that they have no way of verifying,” Noman said bluntly.

“And so as an act of good faith you want to restrict our movements and keep us here until the elections?” John completed in Noman’s stead. He didn’t like it one bit. He knew why Shedim pressed the issue of their credibility. People liked them. People liked them despite and because they were supposedly a couple. Shedim had long ago abandoned the whole perversion crap. But if he could prove that John and Lorne were really fooling Olam, he’d win the elections in a heartbeat. And to do that he needed to keep a close eye on them, which meant that they needed to stay on Olam.

“I wouldn’t have put it that way, Colonel,” Noman replied seriously. “You are, of course, free to come and go as you please. But it will help your credibility to stay here all the time, to show us that you really are the allies you claim to be.”

“And if we won’t?” Lorne asked defiantly. John could see from his face that he was angry as well.

“I don’t know. I have no way of knowing how it will affect my interest’s chances of winning, but I can imagine that it would not help.”

And there was the crux of it. If Noman didn’t win, they wouldn’t get the Ancient weapons. And they had already invested too much of themselves and their reputation in this succeeding. Even if Olam was only now beginning to explore gate travel they were bound to master it soon. Rodney estimated that their level of technology was early 1900’s, which was only a short time before Earth began exploring gate travel.

But unlike Earth, Olam had a DHD, a tablet with adresses and legends to guide them forward.

John looked at Lorne, but Lorne’s eyes only looked troubled and his expression uneasy. “We’ll stay. But just so that you’ll know, we’re doing it in the spirit of future alliance between our people,” John said warningly, and Noman looked relieved.

“I understand that,” he promised. “I will go and inform Manhig and the neutral observers immediately. They will deliver the message onwards,” Noman looked hesitant. “You’ll excuse me for my presumptuousness but I have already had a room made ready for you,” he added gently.

Of course he had, John thought sourly. Noman knew exactly how important it was for Atlantis to have those weapons and ZPMs, and he knew that John and Lorne would do anything he’d ask. “Lead the way,” John said, smiling so widely it was painful, and Noman flinched slightly.

Noman led them to a room on the ground floor that observed the garden and then left them to go see the neutral observers, promising that he would be back shortly.

The room they were given was pleasant, with nice cream-colored walls and brown curtains, the usual Olam color scheme. The windows were smaller than usual, stretching only across half the wall, but still managed to bring in the heavy sweetness of the flowers from the garden and showed them a view of the Jumper, now locked and empty. Luckily the street wasn’t in view of the room.

On the one side was a very large double bed, the same bed that they were used to seeing in Olam, beautifully decorated but without a headboard. Next to it was a small nightstand with glasses and a jug of water, and a small electric lamp imbedded in the wall. On the far side were a closet and a small library, and in the middle of the room was a glass table with three chairs.

Lorne approached the nightstand and pulled the drawer open. He frowned fiercely and held out a small jar for John to see. The jar had a translucent jell inside it and it wasn’t until John opened it and smeared some on his fingers, rubbing them together and feeling them slide with the oiliness of the substance, that he realized what it was.

Lubrication.

“They put us here for nothing more than to spy on us,” Lorne hissed through clenched teeth. John was familiar with Lorne’s anger by now, familiar with the way he shaped the words sharply, the scowl his face adopted and the hard look in his eyes, to know when he was mad even if few other people did. And he was right. The room was on the first floor, windows big enough so that anyone who wanted to could come and stand beside it and hear or see everything. And the lube in the drawer left little doubt as to what Noman wanted whoever it was to see.

John had a sinking feeling that things had just gotten out of hand.

Lorne suddenly winced, turned his back to the window and made a series of four military close combat signals with his hands. John interpreted: Window, Enemy, Crouch, Listen. Someone might be listening to them even now. Someone they didn’t want to know certain stuff.

Resolutely John approached the window, just in time to see someone rounding the corner of the building and disappearing from view. “I’m damn cold,” he muttered and closed it, turning to Lorne just as Lorne turned towards the opening door.

“This is incredible!” Radek barged in, face brilliant. Rodney trailed after him, equally enthused about whatever it was that they managed to find in the single hour they were on the planet.

“None of the Wraith equipment we’ve brought with us works!” Rodney exclaimed, and sounded ridiculously happy about the fact. John and Lorne exchanged confused looks.

“I can see why you’re so excited, Doc,” Lorne said, amused and, if he was feeling like John did, a little relieved as well. John didn’t really want to think of what was going to happen tonight, and what was expected of them to do in that bed.

“You don’t understand, Evan,” Radek said, pushing his glasses up his nose absently. “None of our Wraith equipment works, but all of our Ancient equipment does. We think that this is the reason why the Wraith never got here!”

“We know, not think,” Rodney corrected scathingly.

“You have no proof of that so far!”

“What else could it be!?”

“Gentlemen,” Keller called them both to order, entering the room at a more leisure pace and raising expectant eyes at them. Rodney seemed somewhat embarrassed as he cleared his throat in the wake of her stare.

“Uh, right. Um… well, seeing as the Wraith equipment didn’t work, and the fact that we’ve put out a magnetized needle and it went haywire on us I theorized that something here generates the same EM field as the one we’ve encountered on M7G-677,” Rodney reported, casting Radek one last childish look. 

“Rodney, like Radek said the Ancient equipment works. We came here by Jumper, in case you don’t remember, and we didn’t exactly crash,” John felt compelled to point out that minor flaw in Rodney’s theory. He really didn’t want to believe it because if that was true then these people needed the ZPMs and all their effort would have been in vain.

“Yes, I remember how we came here, thank you,” Rodney replied irritably. “And I didn’t come here to present this theory just because it’s nice. We’ve measured the electro-magnetic field of this planet and found many anomalies, but they match those on 677. In fact, this planet is probably where the Ancients got the idea to create the device on 677 in the first place!”

John couldn’t believe what he was hearing. That was exactly what they were afraid of. “And this is what you call great?” he asked angrily. “If there’s a device here that protects the planet then there might be a chair or some other device that would need the ZPMs to work!”

“I didn’t say that there was a device!” Rodney argued back. “Did you hear me saying that there was a device? Did I even mention a device?” Rodney looked demandingly at Radek, who shook his head. “It’s not caused by a device,” Rodney folded his hands over his chest defiantly, tapping his foot on the floor.

“Then what’s causing it?” Lorne asked, confused.

“Apparently it’s the natural state of this planet. The unique electro-magnetic field this planet is emitting works in polar opposite to the frequency used by Wraith technology,” Radek explained instead of Rodney. “If our measurements will prove correct, this could account for the strange structure of Olam’s electric grid-”

“Yes, yes, yes, not really interesting now,” Rodney cut him off again. “The most interesting part is that if I’m right, and I am, then we can use this to our advantage. We can monitor the frequency, something we couldn’t do on 677 because of the EM field that was being emitted from their device, and maybe even duplicate it. Only, unlike the Ancients, I think I can capture the very specific frequency this planet is emitting. Thus blocking out the Wraith yet leaving us with our Ancient defenses, something they didn’t manage to do on 677,” Rodney finished smugly, smiling in a self-satisfied sort of way.

“You know, the last time I heard you say something like that you blew up three quarters of a solar system,” John commented dubiously.

Rodney’s face darkened. “I’ve learned from my mistakes!”

“Oh yeah, after that you created a black hole using a Replicator,” John reminded Rodney, remembering FRAN and secretly taking pleasure in baiting Rodney. He could see that Lorne, standing next to Rodney, was trying to hide a smile.

“I’ve had help!” Rodney cried at him, and then seemed to understand that John was teasing him because he glared at John resentfully.

“I don’t understand. If it can be done, why didn’t the Ancients isolate the specific frequency on 677 in the first place?” Lorne interfered.

“They didn’t bother because they had no need for it. 677 is like… it’s like one of the protected planets from the Asgard protected planets’ treaty. They protect it but they never go there because they don’t need to or want to interfere. The Ancients had no interest in 677, that’s why they never bothered to isolate the specific frequency after discovering the anomaly in the electro-magnetic field of this planet,” Rodney explained, and John saw Lorne nodding, brow creased. It was possible, even if not entirely feasible, and definitely worth further investigation. And the Ancients were a pretty strange bunch, after all.

“What will it do?” Lorne asked again. “Would it destroy the Wraith ships like the Attero device?”

Rodney shook his head vigorously. “No, that was polarization of a specific _sub-space frequency_ and this is an electro-magnetic field. There’s an entire proof regarding magnets and geological forces that’s too boring to get into right now, but it’s completely different. Basically is would simply cause any Wraith based device to shut down.”

“Okay, Doc. Say that you managed to do that-” Lorne started, but was cut off.

“Of course I’d manage!”

“-We don’t have a platform like that on 677. How are you going to put that to good use?” he finished, and Rodney smiled brightly at him.

“I was thinking about M4D-058,” Rodney announced cheerfully, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking at John expectantly.

John raised his eyebrows, not really following.

“You know, it’s the planet where-” Rodney began impatiently, and John cut him off irritably.

“Yes, Rodney. I remember. It’s the planet where I kicked your cheating ass, what do you want to do with it?” he asked, just as equally impatient. Lorne suddenly coughed and covered his mouth with his hand.

Rodney threw Lorne a scathing look before answering John. “You did not kick my ass! I was on the verge of wiping you out!” he protested, and earned himself an elbow to the ribs from Keller.

“Focus,” she reminded him tiredly.

Rodney still looked indignant, but returned back on topic. “I was thinking that we could use the network of satellites around those planets the Ancients were monitoring to recreate the EM field. If we could, we could turn several dozen planets into protected islands in the galaxy and relocate refugees there,” he finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That’s a cool idea, Doc!” Lorne said enthusiastically, now smiling openly.

“Yes, providing we’ll stay here long enough,” John reminded him plaintively.

“What? What does that mean?” Rodney demanded.

“We were invited to stay overnight until the elections. To prove that we really do speak the truth about who and what we say we are. So they put us in this room, which is on ground floor, and equipped it with everything we’re gonna need,” John said and threw Rodney the lubricant he held in his hands.

Rodney, confused, barely caught it. When he did he did exactly what John did, which was dipping his hand in the jar and rubbing his fingers together. After a moment realization sank, and he raised round eyes at them. “Oh. What, they want you to… uh… what, really?” he asked, embarrassed and shocked.

“As a measure of our credibility,” John confirmed, wincing.

“Surely they understand that even the couples most deeply in love do not embrace each other every night?” Teyla asked, concern coloring her voice.

It was an idea, but it would only hold for so long. “Let’s hope so,” John replied, but he was starting to feel that at the moment things relied too much on hope and luck rather than strategy and pre-planning. Only now the stakes were higher.

Naturally.


	9. Chapter 9

John sighed and sat down on one of the chairs to unlace his boots. If he was honest with himself, he would have preferred to sleep with all of his clothes on and his P90 at an easy reach.

He knew that the next step was to take off his shirt and pants. It was what he and Lorne had discussed during their flight back to their room after debriefing a very unhappy Woolsey about their situation.

Woolsey wanted to send Teyla and Ronon back with them, preferably with Lorne’s team as well and to hell with caution, but at this point both Lorne and John felt like it was best to stay alone. They were capable of defending themselves and if anyone was going to do anything to them, they’d come in larger numbers than that distressed father who tried to attach them before.

John and Lorne agreed that they would sleep with their boxers on, spooned together, chests naked. It was what these people wanted to see. Two men sleeping together, naked or as close to it as possible. But John couldn’t help but remember the first time he had seen Lorne in boxers and how they looked together in Keller’s pictures even as he offered Lorne those exact sleeping arrangements. Lorne was less than thrilled.

They were both given a quick tour to the bathroom at the end of the hallway, the kitchens at the east wing of the floor and the garden exit closest to their quarters by one of Noman’s employees, a woman named Dara, and were left alone for the night with a polite bidding of good night.

Noman was busy for the entire day, something that had to do with the previous day’s outbursts and the whole heated elections that had both him and Shedim occupied, and John and Lorne didn’t know who they could trust so they trusted no one and placed their sidearms under their pillows. They would have locked the door if it had a lock, but had to compromise on moving a chair against it in the hopes that the noise would give them enough time to react if needed. The windows were a bigger problem. Being made out of glass and as big as half the wall, it could pose an easy breaking point.

John had a founded reason to be alert. Earlier that day the debate went on as usual, this time concentrating on Shedim’s unreasonable development plans. John was content to sit this one out, for a change, and let Rodney babble on and on about the evils of the industrial revolution and confuse everyone who listened as he altered between listing off all the good things that came out of it and all the incompetent people who were credited for them.

That was, until he caught Shedim smirking at him from across the room. John had taken to sitting close to Lorne, and would even sling an arm around him on occasion, and this time wasn’t any different. John had Lorne sitting flushed against him, his hand casually on John’s knee while he listened closely to everything that was being said, while John sat back with his hand on Lorne’s back.

John knew that Shedim thought that by forcing then to stay on Olam he could expose their act. He wouldn’t have been concerned if he didn’t think Shedim could do it. And judging by the way the elections were going, considering all that was depending on it, he had a feeling that Shedim would go to a great length not to lose.

A flash of skin broke through John’s musings, and he turned just in time to see Lorne take off his plain, black military T-shirt. Lorne’s front was turned to him and all John could see were small and pink nipples, nicely toned muscles, and that cursed scar marring the smooth patch of skin next to his navel. The large and bulging Velcro belt Lorne had around the waistband of his BDU pants made his hips seem even more slender and his body even more alluring. 

John dropped his eyes, his skin suddenly hot as the blood rushed to his head. Lorne was handsome. He was handsome and John was noticing it.

Almost as if determined to show him everything, Lorne turned around and placed his neatly folded shirt on the chair next to him. He then proceeded to take off his belt and BDU pants, bending down to get them from around his ankles and leaving John with an undisturbed line of sight to his ass. His ass, which was just as tight and round as John’s pelvis told him it was whenever John hugged him from behind.

John turned around, turned before he’d blurt something out or before Lorne would catch him ogling. Which, of course, he was _supposed_ to do. John threw an angry look at the large window and with determined strides and jerky movements closed the soft curtains on either side.

“Good thinking,” Lorne commented while he got into bed, his supple body curving nicely as he reached for the nightstand and deposited his chronometer there. “You coming?”

John thought that if he’d continue that way, he’d be bound to. And than closed his eyes and took a deep breath, banishing the image from his mind. True, he hadn’t had sex in a while, but it was no reason to get excited over a little exposed skin, damnit!

Resolutely, John took off the rest of his clothes and dumped them in a heap on the remaining chair, climbed into bed next to Lorne and stopped short of actually touching him. Here was that invisible line John was about to cross.

Up until that moment he had thought of the whole sleeping together thing as two men out on a mission sharing a tent. Now that he was about to be pressed close to Lorne, with only two thin, well-worn boxers to keep them apart, it was different. Lorne would feel everything: John’s morning erection, John’s desire should John dream any more arousing dreams, everything. And at the end of the day, Lorne was still his subordinate. Things like morning erections were natural, but having it pressed against your XO’s ass went a little too far.

“There’s a pillow there. I won’t feel a thing,” Lorne’s quiet voice assured him suddenly. Lorne was laying on his side, his back to John (_his very smooth and muscular back_), the blanket covering him at chest high. John had no idea how he knew what John was thinking, but he very carefully and very slowly settled behind Lorne.

There was indeed a pillow, placed strategically between Lorne’s ass and John’s groin, and John settled down with a little more confidence, but it was only partial consolation. His chest was still pressed against Lorne’s warm back, and he still sneaked his arm around Lorne’s waist and shoulders to pull him close, his hands going about the motions almost instinctively.

Once John had stopped squirming, Lorne reached a hand and turned off the light.

“Am I-”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’s fine, really.”

“Because I could-”

“Sir, really, it’s okay. Let’s just go to sleep.”

John looked at the dark hairline in front of him and scowled. “Lorne, we’re in bed together and I’m holding you so close there’s probably not even a single atom between us. Lose the ‘sir’,” he ordered stiffly.

There was a subtle movement from Lorne’s side, and then, quietly, “Call me Evan.”

John stared now, thinking back to every pillow talk he had ever had and trying to top that one off. He came up empty. This was by far the strangest and most awkward conversation he had ever had, and that included the conversation with that Hungarian girl John had had a one night stand with and from which he understood about one word out of ten. And she was the talkative type, too. 

“Okay, _Evan_, good night,” he finally said, tired and resigned. He decided that the sooner this day would end the better. Lorne calling him ‘sir’ had brought John back to treating him as Major Lorne, and he wished he would have remembered it on M5R-037 where he used Lorne’s first name in front of Edison and his team instead of now.

“Good night, John,” Lorne answered back softly, and then there was silence.

John wished that he could fall asleep, but he couldn’t find a comfortable position. First there was this pillow against his groin. Then there was that whole hairy leg against hairy leg thing which tickled the hell out of him. His hand kept changing positions, first because it was threaded through Lorne’s own chest hair and resting over his nipple, and then because everywhere else he put it was uncomfortable.

John didn’t know how long he squirmed and shifted before Lorne finally broke. “If it bothers you that much, we can always call it off and go back to Atlantis,” he offered tightly, angrily.

John frowned. What the hell did Lorne expect of him? To be experienced with men? Sure, John was, a bit. He’d had a cock in his mouth. Two, if Lorne really wanted to be accurate. But he had never cuddled another man. Especially not another man he was attra-

John clamped down on that thought fast, not even saying the word in his mind.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. It wasn’t as though Lorne was all buttery muscles against him. “You’re the one who’s stiffer than a board,” he retorted to Lorne, annoyed at himself.

“I had no idea your hand went that low,” was the reply. Lorne’s tone was teasing, hesitant and even somewhat wary, almost as if not wanting the words to be heard. It was Lorne’s way of offering an ice breaker, and John took it with both hands.

Burying his face in Lorne’s warm shoulder, John burst out laughing, releasing all the tension and the nervousness from his system. Lorne was laughing right along with him, short bursts of air accompanied by Lorne’s own voice in between. It was the first time John had heard Lorne laugh, and he decided in an instant that he liked the sound.

“Thanks,” John murmured into his ear, the tension leaving his body. Lorne was curling more fully against him as well, his hand bringing John’s to its original position over Lorne’s nipple and curling around it. John had no problem with it if Lorne didn’t, and he really needed the tension release or neither of them would’ve gotten any sleep.

“It’s okay. It’s not that bad, right?” Lorne asked, tone lighter but still somewhat concerned.

John shrugged, well aware that Lorne would be feeling it. “Not bad. Simply new,” he answered, which was entirely correct. Bad wouldn’t be the word he would use to describe the feeling of having his hands full of Lorne. “You?”

“Not really. Like you said, it’s new.”

John knew that he should be worried that he didn’t have a problem with having another man in his arms, but he didn’t want to bring back the awkwardness from before because they were both going to need the rest. His only problem was that he might have been forcing himself on Lorne, and now that this was out of the way John was content to leave it for the time being.

John grimaced when a sudden thought occurred to him. “I hope this doesn’t ruin anything,” he said, the idea leaving a strange taste in his mouth.

“Between you and me?” Lorne asked, confused.

“Between you and whoever it was you’re interested in,” John clarified, remembering the conversation they had had just before their first visit to Olam together.

Lorne stiffened again and John nearly cursed himself, but then Lorne relaxed once more. “Nothing would ever come out of it,” he replied, which wasn’t a reply at all because it didn’t answer John’s question.

“Why? Is she living on another planet?” John asked, curious.

“No, although I had enough offers like those,” Lorne replied, somewhat amused.

“Did you ever take them up on their offer?”

“No.”

“Because you love someone else,” it was more of a statement than a question, and Lorne was silent for a while before replying.

“Yes.”

John wondered who it was that Lorne was in love with. If it was something that had no chance of succeeding then it must be someone who was either of a senior rank than Lorne or already engaged in a relationship.

The only two John could think of were Carter, who Lorne had known from his time at the SGC, and Keller, who was very clearly into Rodney. And even if she wasn’t Ronon wouldn’t allow anyone else near, not to mention that she and Lorne appeared to be good friends and nothing more. Granted, John didn’t know all the women in Atlantis but he knew the serious couples even if only by name. And no one who wasn’t serious would pass over Lorne. He was handsome, and despite his objections to the title, he _was_ a good man. 

“Who is it?” John asked finally, having had enough of receiving no satisfactory answers.

Lorne’s head dropped to rest on John’s forearm. John had no idea it wasn’t there already until the short strands tickled John’s skin and the weight settled firmly on his arm.

Lorne sighed. “Does it matter?” he asked quietly.

It did. John didn’t know why, but it did. A lot. He wanted to know. Not for the sake of curiosity but because he wanted to know who had Lorne’s interest. “I don’t know. Does it?” he asked back. Lorne wasn’t the only one who could evade questions.

“No, it doesn’t,” Lorne answered back. Only now John knew him, and he knew that tone of voice. It was the same tone of voice Lorne had used when he said ‘yes, sir’ when he actually meant the exact opposite. It was the tone Lorne used when he wanted to hide behind words and formalities.

Which meant that to Lorne too, it mattered a lot.

~o~o~o~o~

A ray of light slowly crept through a gap in the curtain, bringing an unpleasant glare to blind John through his closed eyelids. John grumbled sleepily. He stuck his head out from the warmth he had nuzzled into, felt the coldness of the toom and immediately pulled the covers over his head. With a sigh he burrowed his face into the warm juncture of Lorne’s neck and shoulder, worming his knee in between Lorne’s thighs and returned his hand to its previous place right under the waistband of Lorne’s boxers.

He didn’t really want to get up. It was nice and warm under the covers, and Lorne’s body was pleasantly flushed against him, his even breathing lulling John back to sleep. He was never a light sleeper and he was tired from nearly two weeks’ worth of pretence. Right now delving back to the cobwebs that were still wrapped around his mind was more inviting than going out to the morning chill of Olam’s spring.

That thought lasted about a minute, and then the chair that was placed before the door screeched as it was dragged back and the door opened. Before John even realized what he was doing he was already up, his sidearm in his hand and he was pointing it at a very frightened young maid.

The maid screamed. She dropped the tray she was carrying, smashing the glass jug of water to peaces in the process, and ran away. John and Lorne lowered their guns in union, looking at each other.

“That went well,” Lorne commented, voice rough from sleep. He was growing a shadow of a beard, which John had never seen on him but which actually suited him rather well and made the fine lines of his chin and lips stand out, and his hair was all mussed from sleep. John turned away.

“She should’ve knocked,” John said shortly, cleaning his throat and sneaking a peak at the window and the door. Footsteps were approaching them fast and by the sound of it – it was more than one person. “We’ve got company,” he warned Lorne, turning towards the door and falling into position to cover Lorne so that Lorne could get a few hits through should someone open fire on them.

It was Noman, and he was accompanied by several other people, one of them being his assistant Zamsh. Noman stepped into the room but froze when the broken pieces of the jug crackled under his booted feet. “Colonel Sheppard, what happened here? My maid was terrified out of her senses when I ran across her,” Noman demanded, bewildered and somewhat angry.

“She came in without knocking and we reacted on instinct, pointing our guns at her,” Lorne answered in John’s stead.

“Why would you even carry your weapons around here?” someone, John thought he was a neutral observer named Sote, asked with a note of slight concern and fear. He was a dark haired man with dark eyes and an uncharacteristically bronzed skin and looked slick and attractive, oozing sexuality, but reminded John of the lawyers that used to come to his dad’s parties when he was younger. He probably was one, or something closer, if he served as a neutral observer.

John scowled at him, and his scowl only deepened when he noticed that the man was blatantly checking Lorne out with heated eyes. “When you’ve been out there for as long as we have, and ran into the things that we had, you develop certain instincts that are hard to get rid of,” he said coldly, pulling the brown blanket further around Lorne’s semi-naked form defiantly.

Noman’s own frown deepened as well. “Of course,” he said, and from the look he was giving the observer he had noticed the ogling as well. “I’ll send someone to clean this mess and bring you fresh water and towels,” he added, ushering the rest of his company out of the room and closing the door sharply after him.

“Not exactly the usual morning ritual,” John said to the closed door. Noman’s behavior was definitely different from his usual cheerfulness.

Lorne got out of bed and padded over to where he left his clothes neatly folded. It was only after he had to readjust his boxers that John remembered where his hand had been during the night, and was grateful that Lorne didn’t see the look of guilt he undoubtedly wore on his face.

“He’s getting impatient with us,” Lorne commented while pulling on his shirt. It took John a few seconds, during which Lorne rummaged around for his shaving kit, to understand who Lorne was talking about.

“I don’t blame him. The most important elections of his career and possibly the entire planet are hanging in the balance if we don’t act up our part of the deal,” John replied. “Must be hard when you don’t have polls and such to tell you how you’re doing,” he added as an afterthought.

“Yeah, although it kind of reminds me the ancient Roman civilization with that amphitheater and the debates and all,” Lorne said while John got himself dressed as well. He grimaced at the state of his own uniform, rumpled and filled with crinkles. If he wasn’t so distracted last night he would have folded them like Lorne did.

“They theorized that the Ancients actually brought in most of the foundations of the Roman Empire. I heard Doctor Jackson raving on and on about it when I first met him,” John commented back while rummaging around for a fresh shirt to wear under his jacket.

Lorne turned to look at him, surprised. “You know Doctor Jackson?”

“Sure,” John said, remembering that shocking moment when the Antarctica chair activated under him, right after that crazy helicopter ride. “I met him while I was in Antarctica at the Ancient outpost before gating to Pegasus,” John replied. “You know him too?”

Lorne’s face closed and he turned his back to John once more, wandering over to the curtained windows. “Yes, we’ve worked together once before,” he said, voice clipped, and John suddenly remembered Ritter and that planet where Lorne had acquired his own personal ghost. Funny how he could still remember the guy’s name.

“He’s getting impatient with us for not delivering what we’ve promised,” John changed the subject. He didn’t want to get into the emotional stuff right now, ever if he was allowed that privilege. He suspected that he was way over his head even as it was, and he tried really hard not to think about it.

“I think that he was expecting something else. And I think that the tension of the elections is getting to him,” Lorne replied casually, answering John almost as if he hadn’t just remembered his biggest shame.

John didn’t comment as he followed Lorne to the bathroom, to shave and wash his face with some weird tap that pumped water using an electrical pumping system and shot it out in steady bursts. There was no need. He could read between the lines just fine.

~o~o~o~o~

Noman continued to treat both John and Lorne with the same chilly front from the morning. They didn’t see him until right before the debate started, and that was well into the afternoon. Rodney flew in two Jumpers (which, considering the fact that he couldn’t fly one in a straight line, said something about his enthusiasm), more equipment, Radek and the rest of John’s team. He also brought with him a demand from Woolsey that they make contact every six hours.

Lorne had already given six lessons at the Museum of Art and Ronon and John managed to squeeze in a sparring session for the sake of the herds of curious children that crowded them in addition to their usual chaperoning duties. John had a feeling that Ronon let him win to make a point regarding the whole homosexuality thing, but he wasn’t about to question his good luck.

When Noman did show up he talked to them about the debate, apologized again for startling them that morning and asked after their well being, but there was no mistaking the measuring looks he kept giving them. John was afraid that he was weighing their usefulness in his mind.

His fear turned out to be more real when, during the debate, Noman left them to fend for themselves for the first time. Shedim’s cross interrogation, or so John thought it ought to be called, included calling their alleged relationship ‘unnatural’ at least three times. Usually Noman would have filed a protest with Manhig by then, but this time he remained quiet and Manhig, after throwing Noman a questioning look, reminded Shedim to restrain himself on his own volition.

It wasn’t as though John and Lorne couldn’t handle Shedim. By now they have done this enough to be familiar with the rules and progress of the debate. But there was still something unsettling about Noman’s silence, and John found that he didn’t want to deal with this all alone without the very person who had asked for their presence here, even if he acknowledged that they couldn’t hide behind Noman’s protectiveness forever. And John supposed the fact that Noman had to protect them all the time damaged their credibility as well.

On the bright side, John was happy to see that Lorne remained unfazed. He had answered all of Shedim’s questions patiently and had never once gotten upset with the hinted provocations Shedim kept throwing his way. Lorne had also learned.

“Colonel Sheppard,” Shedim called, towards the end of the debate. John raised his head attentively. He had been watching Shedim and his company like a hawk, not sure what to make of the smiles that seemed to constantly adorn their faces. It was strange to see it after a week during which Shedim behaved like there was a black cloud about him.

“Colonel. What does the title stand for?” Shedim asked, out of the blue.

John raised his eyebrows. “Lieutenant Colonel. It’s a field grade military officer rank. It signifies that I’ve passed certain tests and served enough time to be promoted this far,” John answered, a textbook reply. He could see Lorne smiling and probably thinking the same thing.

“Of course,” Shedim agreed pleasantly. “What other ranks are there in your military?”

“Well, we have commissioned officers like myself and Evan, and we have enlisted airmen, and the ranking system is different for each group,” John didn’t know where this was going, but he enjoyed making it a bit harder on Shedim to get there.

“The commissioned officers.”

“Well, the lowest rank is Second Lieutenant, after that First Lieutenant, Captain, Major, Lieutenant Colonel-” and then John realized what this was about, but it was too late to stop now. “-Colonel, Brigadier General, Major General, Lieutenant General, General and General of the Air Force, the highest rank of all,” John finished reciting, waiting for Shedim to ask the inevitable. They had been asked so many questions about their lives that at first John didn’t suspect Shedim’s scheme, even though he should have, and he berated himself for it.

“So you and Major Lorne are not of the same status amongst your people?” Shedim continued.

“No,” John confirmed.

“In our Peace Forces we have a rule saying that no senior peacekeeper is allowed to have personal connections to any of the junior peacekeepers serving under him. I understand that you’re the military commander of your entire city. Do you not have the same rule?” Shedim finally asked. Their peacekeepers were ranked by years of service. There was a first year peacekeeper, second year peacekeeper and so on.

“Hence, John is my commanding officer as well, true,” Lorne stepped in instead of John.

“And you have no similar rule to what I have just mentioned?” Shedim’s eyes were gleaming even from this distance.

“We have the regulations against fraternization. They forbid any involvement between a commander and his subordinates, a soldier and enemy men and more,” Lorne confirmed, casting a wary look at John.

“And yet, by both the Colonel’s and your own admission, he is your commander,” Shedim pressed his point victoriously. Which was when John had an idea.

“His direct commanding officer, to be exact. While we’re on Atlantis, Evan must obey any command I issue,” John stressed.

“Does this not contradict your rules?” someone John didn’t even see asked.

“Basically it does. But Evan and I both live in another galaxy so the usual solution of transferring one of us to another base won’t work,” John lied with the skin of his teeth. He had become proficient in it. “We were given special permission as long as we don’t serve together in the same field unit, and as long as there are no problems caused by our situation,” John finished, certain that now the gleam was in his own eyes.

But Shedim wasn’t finished. Not yet. “Do you know, Colonel, the reason why this law was written in the first place?” he asked, almost like a teacher teaching a young child right from wrong.

“I’d imagine that it’s for the same reason we have it,” John answered shortly, and then elaborated, thinking that playing childish games now would only make them look like they had something to hide. “So that if a commander needs to make hard decisions, he won’t be affected by personal feelings.” Which John thought was a lie. How could you not be affected when someone you’ve served with for years gets shot? Is captured?

“I find it hard to believe that an administration as advanced-” and Shedim’s tone left no doubt regarding his opinion of their administration’s advancement, “-as that of your world allows you to be the commander of your supposed bonded man,” Shedim pressed.

John had a split second to think about it. “He’s not on my team, but leads his own team. We both answer to our expedition’s leader and are always under his direct supervision. And I know that if I ever treat Evan any differently from my other subordinates while we’re on duty everything we have together will be over,” John then almost smirked.

Which turned into outright glee when whatever it was that Shedim had to add was swollen in the commotion of the bell ringing and the people getting up to leave the hall.

As they climbed up, Lorne gave John a lopsided smirk. “Nice move,” he complimented, and John felt smug at the praise. “But Noman is still unhappy with us,” he added, bringing John back to the ground.

John tried to look for Noman, but he was nowhere to be found. All John could see was the neutral observer from before, Sote, looking at Lorne once again with distinct interest, his intentions clear. It made John’s annoyance flare so suddenly that he had already taken one step up towards Sote before he even realized what he was doing.

John stopped himself, looking defiantly at Sote from his place lower down the long staircase that led out. He took a quick calming breath and walked back towards Lorne.

“Well, I’m not going to wait for Noman anymore,” John declared, irritated. Lorne turned to look at him, surprised. “Let’s go before you get yourself raped,” he added, taking Lorne firmly by the hand and leading him out, moving his arm protectively around Lorne’s shoulders as they passed Sote.

“_What?_” Lorne demanded, confused, but allowed himself to be pulled away by John. Only when they were out of the building and walking towards the transport station did John explain.

“He was checking you out,” he said, still angry. Outside it was a sunny afternoon, and as they left people began whispering amongst themselves and some of the children pointed fingers at them. It wasn’t unusual, but normally there were at least two or three people who approached them to ask something or shake their hands. Now there were none, and John scowled and hastened his step.

“He? He who?”

“Sote,” John nearly growled the name out. “The neutral observer,” he added when Lorne sent him a blank look.

Lorne raised his eyebrows in surprised. “He was?” he asked incredulously.

“You didn’t notice?” It was worrying that Lorne didn’t see things like that.

“No,” Lorne said, sounding slightly concerned as well, but just then they arrived at the station and found Ronon, Teyla, Radek, Rodney and Keller already sitting inside a cart.

Ronon looked at them first, and raised his eyebrows at John when John came close enough to make eye contact. John followed Ronon’s gaze and saw that he was still holding Lorne’s hand tightly in his, and immediately let go. He climbed into the cart and sat beside Rodney, where there was only one spot vacant, leaving Lorne to sit next to Radek.

“Where were you!?” Rodney demanded. The transport began moving and Rodney had to speak louder to be heard over the wailing wind and electrical buzz. “Noman just passed by us and didn’t even so much as said hello. Did you annoy him or something?”

John turned in his seat to look at his friend, his annoyance rekindled. “Rodney, were you listening during that last briefing at all? Do you even know _why_ Lorne and I are staying the night here on Olam?” John asked incredulously.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I wasn’t. My presence was required somewhere else,” Rodney replied haughtily, but it was the same haughtiness he used to cover for hurts done to him.

And, John realized suddenly, he had hurt Rodney.

To John’s surprise, he really didn’t notice Rodney’s absence. Most of the time Rodney was there on the planet with them, and that was enough for John. John was with Lorne practically night and day during the last two weeks, both on Olam and in Atlantis, and never really took note of the fact that Rodney wasn’t in sight for more than five minutes at a time. He was both surprised and a little ashamed for not noticing.

“I was kind of busy too,” he offered by way of apology. “That was what we talked about during the briefing yesterday. Noman and Shedim both don’t really trust us to be who we said we are. Shedim mostly, but we think that it’s affecting Noman as well. I’m afraid that he’s rethinking our deal, and that eventually he’ll send us away,” John explained, straightening up in his seat a little as they neared their station. At least, that was the best case scenario. John was apprehensive about the worst case…

“What are you saying?” Rodney asked sharply, concerned.

“That Noman thinks he may have allied himself with his own doom,” John answered bluntly.

“That’s bad,” Rodney said quietly, in the process of thinking things through. “That’s very bad. No, no, no, we can’t go yet!” he was gathering momentum, John knew. He knew his friend well enough. “You don’t understand! We need to perform tests on this EM field. We _can_ duplicate it, but we need measurements, we need time, we need tests, we need… we need _time_!” Rodney exclaimed.

John shot him a reproving look. Why was it that the fate of the galaxy always seemed to rest on the most impossible missions? “Damnit Rodney, you think I don’t know how important this is? I didn’t come here for the entertainment of being Lorne’s lover,” he reminded Rodney tightly.

“I know! But this could be more important than ZedPMs or personal shields. We’re talking about creating safe havens all over the galaxy!” Rodney said urgently.

“_I know_!” John almost shouted. When everyone else turned to look at him he dropped his head between his hands, combing through his hair with his fingers and sighing deeply to get some of the annoyance out. “I know,” he repeated more quietly.

Rodney didn’t answer and he and John lapsed into tired silence, allowing the wind and the chatter of the others to fill their ears.

“So, where _were_ you these past few days?” John finally asked.

“I’ve been working on the ZedPMs. There’re just a whole slew of new problems that are only now coming up and I’m the only person with enough brain cells to actually solve them,” Rodney said without real heat, apparently sensing that there was no point in pressing John further.

“But they’re good, right?” John asked wearily. At least let this not all be for nothing.

Rodney smiled at him encouragingly. “Yeah, they’re good. Better than good, they’re amazing,” Rodney promised him softly, making John smile.


	10. Chapter 10

John had a long conversation with Rodney after the debate that consisted mostly of techno-babble and complaints about Rodney’s scientists, but it still gave John a measure of normality and support he missed throughout the last week when all that had occupied his mind was Olam and Lorne.

Later he sat in his room with Ronon, Rodney and Teyla and, by some unspoken consensus, they’d talked about all sorts of inconsequential things. Like John’s latest score in his golf game, Torren sneezing and Ronon kicking some of the scientists’ asses after Woolsey insisted that they all learn self-defense following the abduction of the Deadalus by Todd.

Lorne went out to the garden with Keller and Radek, giving them all the space that they needed. John had noticed that he was close to both of them, and they seemed concerned for some reason during the ride to their guest quarters. John didn’t know why but he did know that they were talking about something private that could probably confirm Shedim’s suspicion, because they went into the Jumper at some point and closed the hatch after them.

After the others had returned to Atlantis, John stood alone in the room and stretched his back to release some kinks, then looked out of the window. The sun was setting and the garden was painted gold and orange because of some silver leafed tree.

As John watched through the window Lorne came into view, his back to the building and his face towards the little rocky valley that the garden overlooked, and John suddenly felt compelled to join him. There was something about Lorne’s posture that seemed lonely and forlorn, and John snorted quietly to himself. His imagination was probably running wild, and it wasn’t the first time. This time he simply lacked the inclination to fight it.

Outside the air was getting chilly, a sign that it wasn’t summer yet, and the wind blew gently against the treetops. Lorne was huddled in his jacket when John joined him, but he looked up and offered a smile when John came to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Had a good time?” Lorne asked pleasantly, returning to gazing down at the valley.

John turned to look at well. It wasn’t all that amazing and they both had seen it enough times by now to be familiar with it. “Sure. It made some of the stress disappear for a while,” John replied easily.

“And now?”

“Now it’s probably all back,” John grimaced. His shoulders were tense and regretted not asking Teyla for a backrub. He didn’t remember being so tense before, and the momentary respite only served to heighten the discomfort.

“It should,” Lorne replied quietly. “They’re getting very close to kicking us back through the gate.”

“If we’re lucky. I somehow have a feeling that we could end up a lot worse,” John said somberly.

“We need to throw them a bone,” the words came out haltingly, almost as if Lorne was reluctant to say them.

“The pictures idea was pretty much a waste,” John said, a shiver going down his back as he remembered yet again the startling intimacy he and Lorne presented in their beach picture.

Suddenly Lorne was turning to him, his hands locking together around John’s neck. John’s hand instantly came up to cup Lorne’s face, his thumb skimming the rough cheek and nicely shaped chin before he even realized what he was doing. His other hand was around Lorne’s hips, securing Lorne against John’s body.

John nearly stepped back, shocked at his own reaction. He was sure he would never have placed his hands there and was somewhat disturbed by the speed of his reaction. But Lorne’s hands around his neck pressed into his nape gently and Lorne’s leg came to rest parallel to John’s, trapping him and preventing him from moving.

“Shedim is here,” Lorne said quietly, lips moving but sound barely coming out.

“I know,” John lied, needing a cover for his reaction to Lorne’s proximity.

“We could give it to them now,” Lorne offered, nose gently bumping against John’s cheek, and John swallowed heavily when he saw Lorne’s lips an inch from his. He was about to say something, ask something stupid like ‘how’ or ‘what’, when Lorne’s body tensed up against him.

“What is it?” John asked directly into Lorne’s ear, concerned and tensing up as well despite the strangeness of the situation. If it wasn’t for the fact that Lorne was standing very close to him, John would never have felt it. But he did, and a quick assessment of the situation showed him that they were very exposed and vulnerable in their current position.

Lorne cursed, something John rarely heard him doing. “He’s got Noman with him, some of his own party, Zamsh and even that neutral observer from before,” Lorne reported, hands sliding down John’s shoulders to rest lightly in the small of his back. John was about to tell him to step back so that they could both be within easy reach of their side arms, especially since a large party with unknown intentions was coming their way, but when he heard the last thing Lorne had said anger and possessiveness overclouded everything else.

“Sote?” John asked, tightening his hold on Lorne without even thinking about it. Only after Lorne struggled a little did John adjusted his hold and reduced the pressure.

Lorne cursed again. “Even Nahar is here!” he whispered, clearly distressed. John was the first to admit that he didn’t know the minister of culture all that well, but he did know that he and Lorne had developed a fast friendship and that Lorne spent much time with him at the museum. Lonre valued his bond with Nahar and his opinion mattered to him.

“That’s bad?” he asked, confused. He thought that Nahar was on their side. He’d already seen them as close as they were now and never had a problem with it. Why was Lorne stressing out over this?

Lorne didn’t really answer. “Let’s go inside. Remember, we’re not supposed to do this where people can see, we come from a very closed off society,” Lorne said, a mere ghost of breath against John’s cheek and then he was gone, taking John’s hand and lacing their fingers together.

It was only after they were back in the room that John understood what Lorne had meant and why he was so uncomfortable with the party coming their way. He stopped and stared at the jar of lubrication Lorne placed in a very visible spot on the nightstand, shocked.

“No,” he said, tone final. This was the point of no return. If they’d do it, there would be nothing more to salvage from his and Lorne’s developing friendship. He had no doubt that Lorne knew what he was suggesting, but John still refused to do it to him, refused to be at the delivering end of such an experience. Lorne could get hurt physically and was bound to be hurt emotionally. John was unwilling to see him flinch whenever John walked into the room.

Lorne approached him, face catching the last light from the sunset. “We’re not going to really do it, John,” he said soothingly, once more so close to John that his breath was hitting John’s skin in warm waves. “We’ll stay in our boxers and put a pillow between us. They won’t know.”

Their unwelcome guests. John had forgotten all about them just from the shock he got from Lorne’s offer. Which was another reason not to do this.

“It will never look real,” John tried to explain, hands crushing Lorne to him to stop Lorne from caressing his back and face like he had started doing.

“Yes it will. Just imagine I’m some sultry blonde with really big tits, I won’t mind,” Lorne whispered in his ear and John yanked him away, flinching almost as if he had just been smacked by Lorne across the face.

His skin, which started getting sensitive and warm under Lorne’s brief exploration suddenly felt clammy. The idea of a sultry blonde with really big tits was such a huge turn-off that John’s face must’ve been showing his disdain.

Lorne misinterpreted his expression. “We have no choice, John. This is the test we have to go through. Either we do something now or we pack our things and leave!” he hissed at John warningly.

John didn’t need the explanation, he already knew. Such a large company didn’t gather simply to have tea in the garden. They came to check that John and Lorne were telling the truth, that they really were a homosexual couple in love with each other. And normal, in love, homosexual couples were bound to have sex, or any sort of intimate touch, while alone together with no immediate dangers supposedly threatening them.

Lorne was also right when he offered John this compromise. No one would know that they weren’t completely naked under the blankets, or not in direct contact with each other.

John remembered the previous night, the warmth of Lorne’s body and the coarse feel of his chest hair. He remembered the curve of his ass from all those times he had held Lorne and the faint scent of his aftershave from a moment ago. He was developing a kind of sweet ache in his belly, pangs of desire coursing from it through his body, and it scared him. He was into women and it scared him how much he wanted Lorne to be right about their ability to do it.

But John was never one to shy away from fear.

John closed his eyes, and when he opened them again there was Lorne in front of him, smiling a little in offering. He was offering himself to John, and John wanted nothing more at that moment than to take him up on his offer.

“What do I do?” he asked Lorne quietly, well aware that the window to their left was wide open and that they most likely had an audience.

Lorne smiled at him, that brilliant smile that illuminated the entire room. He approached John and placed his hands on the hem of his shirt. “Let’s get undressed first,” Lorne said, still smiling at him. But John didn’t need to look too deeply to see how tense Lorne was, or how alert, as if afraid that John would violently push him away.

John put his hands on the hem of Lorne’s shirt and made the first move. Burying his head in Lorne’s neck, John allowed his hand to travel up Lorne’s torso, dragging the shirt up as well and feeling the swells of pectoral and abdominal muscles and his sparse chest hair. Under his ministration, Lorne shivered and brought his hands up from John’s shirt to clutch at his shoulders, head dropping backwards.

“What are the rules?” John barely remembered to ask. This was not an intimate intercourse, but an elaborate show. There were some lines they couldn’t cross.

“No kisses on the mouth,” Lorne replied in his ear, short of breath.

The sound of Lorne short of breath simply because John caressed him made everything else clouded and unimportant. John felt the throb of arousal stirring his cock as he deftly got Lorne out of his shirt so that his hands could explore more of that warm skin, feel the tension in the back and the dip and narrowness of the waist.

Lorne looked at John, startled as he found himself so fast without a shirt, but John merely took a step back and took off his own shirt as well, allowing the cool night air to chill him a little and Lorne to see him. But Lorne averted his eyes, so John inspected him instead.

The coldness made Lorne’s nipples peak out and his skin rise in goose bumps. And there was nothing more John wanted than to taste that flesh and discover the feel of those nipples between his teeth.

John quickly stepped out of his boots and took off his pants. Lorne was done only with his boots by the time John was ready and John quickly stepped to his side, circling his hips with one hand and reaching out for the button fly of Lorne’s pants with the other-

-only to be stopped by Lorne’s hand. Lorne’s eyes flashed him a warning look that had John stepping back, and before he knew it Lorne was in bed and raising the sheet in an invitation.

John took a deep breath, cursing silently. He wondered whether he really should get into the bed with Lorne, especially since everything they had just talked about, about how this was only for the sake of their audience and about the lines that couldn’t be crossed, had slipped his mind already in favor of arousal.

Lorne got up, his eyes intense. He walked up to John but instead of telling John anything, he wrapped his arms around John’s waist and dropped a kiss to John’s shoulder, bringing into contact warm, naked skin.

John couldn’t think. Was unable to while his hands rose up to roam over Lorne’s body once more as if Lorne hadn’t pushed him away seconds before, face burying in Lorne’s hair and breathing him in. Lorne was backing up and John followed, unaware that they were tumbling down onto the bed until his hips came to rest against a pillow instead of against Lorne’s warm pelvis. It was also then that Lorne threw out a pair of boxers he must have prepared in advance, to fool their audience into thinking that they were naked under the blankets.

But John didn’t care. His mouth was already trailing kisses from Lorne’s ear to his collarbone, tongue coming out to lick and taste skin and the sudden sheen of perspiration that covered Lorne’s body.

Lorne tasted like musk and salt and masculinity, and John found that he couldn’t let go. He trailed his tongue down to Lorne’s nipples, strangely flat over hard muscle but still erect and begging for attention, and closed on one of the little nubs. He sucked, feeling the nipple erecting even more and Lorne arching against him, bringing more of himself into contact with John and combing his fingers through John’s hair, demanding more and tugging him towards his other nipple.

John reveled in the body beneath him, despite it being flat and bony rather than round and full. He had already thought of an advantage to this new anatomy he was pleasuring, dragging his stubbled cheek down Lorne’s chest, and was rewarded with a hiss and an arch, causing Lorne to try and crush them together using his hands and feet. John twined their legs together, tugging on Lorne’s left leg to rise up and wrap around his knees and was thrilled when Lorne eagerly obliged and brought them closer together. John smiled, his mouth marking wet trails on Lorne’s neck, tongue licking up and down Lorne’s throat while his hands caressed every patch of warm skin he could get to.

There was an urgency in John he didn’t understand, couldn’t even fathom in his current state of lust, but he wanted to be everywhere at once, do everything now, get to know the body underneath him as intimately as possible and pleasure it as thoroughly as he could. He didn’t comprehend it, but he worked methodically on every inch of Lorne’s chest, kissing and licking, nipping with teeth and tweaking with fingers, until he got Lorne to moan and tug and arch in response.

And Lorne did respond to him. He was breathing raggedly, hands around John’s back and on his nape, tugging him down for more or pulling him away, indicating how he wanted John to pleasure him and where, where he was more sensitive and where he was not. John worked hard to get him to moan or gasp, as he did if John touched him the right way, bit at the right place or licked the right spot. John could tell that Lorne tried to keep his pleasure in. It annoyed him when Lorne managed to do it, and thrilled him when Lorne broke and cried out.

John’s hips were slowly humping the pillow, creating a shallow dent that he slammed into again and again, but it frustrated him that he couldn’t feel Lorne as well. He wanted to feel Lorne, wanted to feel him thrusting against John, throbbing with him and moving with him, wanted skin to skin all the way.

So John’s hand left Lorne’s right nipple and slide down, tugging on the waistband of Lorne’s boxers while his head rose up to try and capture Lorne’s lips.

He wanted everything.

“No!” Lorne whispered sharply, turning his head away and stopping John’s wandering hand with his own. He pushed John a little up and away, causing chilly air to hit both their chests where there was before only the warmth of their bodies, and John could feel him shivering.

John looked down at Lorne, frowning and mildly irritated. Why was Lorne resisting? It was obvious that he was turned on as well, obvious that he wanted it as well, so why did he stop?

Lorne didn’t give him time to think. He rose and kissed John’s neck, sucking lightly under John’s ear, and John promptly forgot his annoyance. Lorne’s talented lips kissed up his neck, and Lorne’s teeth bit his earlobe and John gasped.

And then Lorne’s tongue was circling his earlobe and Lorne’s hands were combing through the hair on John’s chest and pinching his nipples, and John thought he might come from that alone. His entire body was throbbing in time with his cock and all he wanted to do was have Lorne’s hand on him and thrust into it.

John’s hands brought Lorne close, his knees drawing up to straddle Lorne and allow him access to John’s body. John wanted to feel Lorne reciprocating, wanted Lorne to get the same rush of pleasure from John that John did from Lorne, and was willing to do anything to feel Lorne like that.

Lorne wasted no time, didn’t linger like John did, but went straight for John’s nipple and bit it hard, causing John to see stars behind his closed eyelids. “More!” John ordered hoarsely, almost growling, tugging Lorne’s head closer to his chest for what he asked for, gasping and heaving short breaths with the intensity of his arousal.

But Lorne stopped and simply hugged John close. John struggled a little, panting and trying to get himself free, to get himself once more in contact with Lorne’s skin, but Lorne’s arms were strong. For a moment all they could do was stay close together, warm chests heaving against each other with barely enough room because John was holding Lorne just as close as Lorne was holding him.

“Calm down,” Lorne murmured in his ear, a strong hand coming up to squeeze his shoulder while he made shushing noises. “It’s over. They have nothing to hold against us anymore. That was enough,” he whispered harshly against John’s ear, but it took a moment for the words to register. They? Hold against? Enough? It wasn’t enough, not nearly!

“Please, sir,” Lorne begged him desperately when John turned his head and tried once more to capture his lips, and John froze in horror. The hazy cloud of passion dissipated and John was able to think once again like himself. Like the commander that he was, who was kissing and licking every inch of his XO’s chest.

John jerked back, horrified, and wished that the room was less dark. He wanted, needed, to see Lorne’s face right then. To know that he didn’t hurt him. That there was no irreparable damage done.

“I’m…“ John’s voice was husky and low, but he needed to get his apology through. He panicked, not really believing that he had allowed himself to get this carried away, or to forget that there was a potential threat just outside their window. “I’m-”

“It’s okay,” Lorne cut him off, a mere whisper. There was a rustle of fabric and then Lorne rose up. “I’m going to get cleaned up,” he declared a little more loudly and almost fled the room, leaving John alone in the dark.

John allowed himself to fall back onto the mattress, his stomach in knots and the bitter taste of unfulfilled passion filling his mouth. His erection had died away when the realization of what he had allowed himself to do sank in.

He got carried away. Wildly carried away. There were no words to apologize for what he had forced Lorne to do. The room was dark, they could have only pretended to move, fake voices, anything. They didn’t need to get really physical with each other, even if it was Lorne who started it.

John sighed, and unbidden Lorne’s scent invaded his nose. It was tempting to slowly jerk himself off, lying in bed and breathing that scent in deep, but it was cold, they had enemies under their windowsill and John had just crossed a big red line.

Angry, John got up from the bed both to escape the scent and to close the window and end this sorry escapade. The panic has finally receded and he was able to function without wanting to scream at his own actions.

 Let them think whatever they wanted about this. Lorne was right to stop him when he did. John knew with an alarming certainty that he would never have stopped when Lorne had asked him to the first time. Eventually he would have taken all of Lorne, and he shuddered at the thought.

John returned to bed and grimaced when the wet patch on the front of his boxers came into contact with his still oversensitive cock. He had definitely felt it for real, definitely got excited by Lorne’s touch, and it was disturbing. John quickly changed his boxers and put on a shirt, padding over to the bed to escape the coldness of the floor.

The most disturbing thing of all was that, given the chance, John would have done it again. His mouth craved to trail all over Lorne’s body and his hands itched to close around warm flesh even now, in the temporary solitude of the dark room. And those desires overrode for a moment the strangeness in this whole attraction thing John had developed for Lorne.

John settled in bed and pulled the blanket up, but when he made to lie down something got in the way. John fished it out and saw the pillow that had separated them. It was still rumpled from John’s humping, and John could see a distinct wet spot on it. He grimaced, deciding to throw the pillow under the bed as there was no hiding the fact that he was aroused by Lorne, but there was also no need to show Lorne proof. Grabbing it, John felt something strange.

There was a wet spot on both sides of the pillow.

Lorne’s side also had a sizable wet spot, and John brought it to his nose in morbid fascination. It smelled musky and definitely like pre-come.

Lorne was aroused as well.

With more force than he should have, John flung the pillow under the bed just when Lorne returned and without a word slid into bed next to him.

John didn’t wrap his arm around Lorne, a sour taste in his mouth that had nothing to do with his unfulfilled lust or shame. He lay on the bed, body rigid and tense just like Lorne’s, and wondered whether any body would suffice.

Whether any body, any mouth and any pair of hands would be enough for Lorne.

And the thought that anyone would caused John’s heart to sink and for a slow burning sensation to spread in his chest. He knew that he would be unable to fall asleep.

~o~o~o~o~

John dreaded the morning after. He hadn’t slept a wink that night and neither did Lorne. They both simply laid in bed, Lorne’s back to John, both tense and unspeaking. It was the worst night in John’s life because beyond the tense atmosphere, John couldn’t stop resenting the thought that anyone would be enough to pleasure Lorne. That anyone could drag out of him the reactions that John did. He was being eaten alive by his own jealousy.

He wasn’t a possessive man, and he wasn’t naïve. He knew very well that he wasn’t the best lover in the history of love, even if he wasn’t bad, and knew that Lorne wasn’t a virgin. Not according to his behavior in bed. And while John was bitter over Nancy being with that lawyer (or judge or whatever he was) it wasn’t bitterness because someone was sleeping with his ex-wife but over their uncomfortable divorce, mismatched marriage and the fight that ensued between John and his family after it. Yet somehow he still couldn’t get past the fact that it could have been Sote, for all the difference it made to Lorne, and the thought made him furious. 

They got out of bed in silence at the crack of dawn, when there was no more reason to stay there, and this time it was John who commandeered the shower and took his time standing under the jutting hot spray trying to ease the heaviness in his stomach. It didn’t help much, and eventually John gave it up.

Lorne was done very quickly after John release the shower, and was already dressed in fresh BDUs when he entered their shared room. A sleepy maid who saw John earlier when he made his way back to the room had hurried away to prepare something to eat and brought it in, but John found that he was munching whatever it was without much appetite by the time Lorne returned.

Lorne placed his shaving kit back into his bag, his movements measured and slow. John watched him from the corner of his eye all morning but couldn’t detect anything out of the ordinary except for the tightness around Lorne’s mouth that indicated clenched teeth. Lorne’s eyes were neutral and his face a stony mask.

That didn’t change even when Lorne finally turned to John. “If what happened during the night bothered you, don’t,” he said quietly. John expected some accusations, some uneasiness, but there was none. Only neutrality. “Whoever it was you imagined I was, you’d better stick with that. It’ll prevent further embarrassment,” Lorne added.

John smiled bitterly. That was exactly it. He wasn’t depressed about his embarrassment over what they had done, but by the thought that anyone would suffice for Lorne. And he hadn’t imagined anyone else but the person standing in front of him.

“At any rate, I was invited by Nahar to see his private collection today, and after the debate he promised to take me to the outer edges of the city where they have a beautiful river that runs fast with melting snow from the mountains. We’ll be painting for most of the day,” Lorne informed him, more of a report than anything else. Completely professional. Completely detached.

Anyone would suffice.

John clamped down on that thought. “Okay,” John managed to force out despite the growing awkwardness. “Have fun.”

Lorne nodded his head once, a gesture that was as good as a salute, and left the room.

John leaned forward on his chair and dropped his head into his hands, his half-eaten breakfast forgotten. It wasn’t entirely true that Lorne didn’t feel anything. John knew him well enough by now to know that he used formality to hide his true feelings from other people in the military. He wondered what he was hiding, and couldn’t shake the feeling that Lorne was simply trying to inject some normality into the situation by doing this, for John’s sake. He always did take that whole pretence thing better than John did. He was the one who suggested that they do it. He was the one who kissed John first. He had no problem with it.

Anyone would-

John got up and slammed his fist into the wall. The sharp pain that erupted from his knuckles was enough to stop him from thinking again, but only temporarily.

He was in deep trouble, he knew. He had never felt such bitterness in his life. He had never planned on doing what he did with Lorne. He was Lorne’s commanding officer, damnit! He should never have allowed himself to get carried away.

That aside, John wasn’t gay. He was straight. After a drunken night of curious and clumsy explorations, the idea of homosexuality didn’t hold much interest to him. He never checked out guys in the locker room, no more than any other guy, never anything other than secretly comparing sizes, lengths and fitness which all young healthy males did. He liked breasts, soft and pliant bodies. He knew them and he loved them, loved the connection and the rush he felt whenever he had sex with a woman.

But he also couldn’t get enough of Lorne last night. He wanted to fuck Lorne, wanted to explore Lorne’s mouth, wanted a lot more than what he was offered. The rush he got from Lorne’s body, which was all hard muscles, resistance and sharp angels, was beyond anything he had ever experienced before.

During the time they had spent together on Olam, John found himself interested in Lorne as a person. He liked spending time with him and felt that they were developing a sort of bond that could only make working together a lot more pleasant. But when had that transformed into Lorne kissing John and John losing his head? He liked spending time with Ronon and Rodney too, but if either of them ever tried to kiss him he’d punch them with everything he had.

Why was Lorne different?

John knew the answer to that. It was the same thing that had made him stop thinking clearly when Lorne offered himself, and the same thing that made his blood boil when he thought that to Lorne anyone would be good enough.

It was wrong and John refused to accept it. It was wrong on the level that John was Lorne’s commanding officer and he couldn’t afford to lust after him. It was wrong because if they’d ever be discovered John would lose the only place he had ever wanted to call home. It was wrong because at any minute either of their lives could be lost.

None of that stopped the arousal from spiking low in his belly when he looked at the bed and remembered the way Lorne looked all tousled and panting for breath because of him.

And then it was wrong because Lorne didn’t return the sentiment. He probably thought of Carter or whoever his unrequited love really was. At that thought John felt his anger rising so fast and his resentment for Carter, who he had really liked himself, building so rapidly that he was astounded.

He was in really, really big trouble.

~o~o~o~o~

Lorne looked no different than any other day. There wasn’t a trace of uneasiness about him, not a single shred of tension in his posture when they met each other again just before the start of the debate. It looked like whatever Lorne’s issues were that morning, he had worked them out.

It was like salt in John’s wounds. The same thought that had occupied his mind since before they went to sleep last night returned with a vengeance. There was nothing out of the ordinary with Lorne, nothing to indicate that whatever they did meant something. John knew he should be happy because it meant that they might just manage to salvage their working relationship, but instead all he could think of was ‘_anyone’s fine_’.  

John tortured himself all morning with those thoughts, and even conversations with his team, sparring with Ronon, fighting with Rodney and touring Olam couldn’t distract him. By the time his team had arrived John had already started going in circles.

Teyla couldn’t get out of him what happened, so instead she took him with her on a tour she had arranged with the minister of education, a very fat person named Sefer. If didn’t really help, but it did make the day go by much faster.

After the tour Zamsh caught up with him and invited all of John’s team to a state dinner. It was a sort of truce where every minister, observer and candidate attended and politics were forbidden, and apparently Lorne and he were the guests of honor. It sounded like a very forced and awkward gathering but Zamsh had explained that the celebration was held in honor of Union Day, the day when all independent cities of Olam decided to come together under a central regime and enter an era of enlightenment. There would be entertainment and good food, Zamsh had promised, and John figured that anything that might distract him at night would be good. He was asked to arrive at the precise time and even make a speech, but John figured that he’d leave that part for Teyla or even Keller to worry about. 

By the time the debate finally arrived John had already made up his mind about him and Lorne. He needed to talk to Lorne. He’d tell Lorne some lie in the effort of preserving what little remained of their working relationship if not friendship. Lorne was professional enough to ignore anything that might be awkward, and he had already made a career out of avoiding John entirely. It angered John that this was how it must end, but he cared about Atlantis more than he cared about himself. They needed to be alright with each other on at least some basic level in order to function properly.

That was the plan.

He didn’t want to do it. didn’t want to push Lorne away again, but was unwilling to turn him into a scapegoat. He would deal with his own emotions, somehow, sometime. He was never good at it, but he’d deal with it, or bury it and ignore it the best he could. And it was better that Lorne wasn’t around when that happened. It’d only make things more difficult.

But now, now that Lorne looked much more like himself, like nothing had ever happened, John felt even worse. The fact that his half assed lie wouldn’t be necessary only served to strengthen the conclusion that John was no different than any other fuck-buddy Lorne had ever had.

And despite all the reasons for why he should be happy that this was the situation, despite all the reasons why he shouldn’t want Lorne to feel anything about what they had done last night, John was bitter. He shouldn’t, but he _wanted_ it to mean something to Lorne too.

Without a word, John went over and took his usual place next to Lorne on the central podium while the rest of the crowd continued filing into the amphitheater for the upcoming daily debate. 

Noman was in his usual place up at the seats. He cast worried looks at John and Lorne, and John sent him a resentful glance back. Noman hadn’t made any effort to talk to them, and especially didn’t apologize for spying on them that night. John thought that the least Noman could do was tell them whether Shedim was finally convinced, and prepare them for what was about to come today. But Noman averted his eyes when John finally managed to make eye contact and John clenched his jaw. He wanted this to be over with already, and couldn’t see how he was going to pull another whole week of pretense.

Shedim entered the amphitheater, face almost livid with anger. John, despite his moodiness, managed to feel some satisfaction that Shedim was at an obvious disadvantage and knew it. But John also knew that any information obtained by using spying could not be used during the debate, and that cornered people could be dangerous because they had nothing to lose.

Once everyone took their seats, John watched with apprehension as Shedim rose up in his seat and faced them.

“Major Lorne, what is the percentage of male couples on your world?” Shedim said without preamble, voice sharp and eyes dark with anger.

Lorne looked confused for a moment. “What?”

“The percentage, Major. The number of people out of the general population that engage in sexual activities with people of the same sex,” Shedim asked impatiently.

“I don’t know,” Lorne said. “I imagine that it’s about less than ten percent,” he added uncertainly.

“You do not have an exact number?”

“No, such data was never relevant to the public in our world,” Lorne said, which John knew was true. He himself has never heard of an exact number of homosexuals worldwide either.

“If your world is as advanced as you claim, there must be some special counseling services for male couples such as you. Surely you can deduce from that alone the number?” Sheidm insisted, but there was no teasing in his voice, no victory.

“Yes, there are. John and I never had any need of them so we wouldn’t know. We never investigated the issue,” Lorne replied, reluctant to give Shedim what he wanted.

“What about adoption centers? You told us yourselves in a previous debate that the male couples of your world are allowed to adopt children who were not of their flesh and blood, yet our mental health councilors claim that some of the reasons a person would regress to such perversions are environmental. Surely there are special adoption centers that deal with such cases,” Shedim prowled on.

“Our psychologists are qualified to handle every case, no matter the gender of the couple in question,” Lorne answered carefully.

“What is the average age in which an Earth boy discovers his abnormal nature?”

“I don’t know. I first discovered my homosexuality at sixteen.”

“What about the average age of marriage?”

“Probably mid-twenties.”

“At which age do you educate your children in regards of the mechanisms of male sex?”

“Every parent decides that individually,” Lorne shot back, more tense now than at the beginning of the conversation. John was wary of the sudden interrogation as well, but decided to bear with it for the time being.

“What is the percentage of male couples who have children in your world?” Shedim’s voice became more demanding with every question he fired, and his speech quickened. He seemed impatient for an answer the more Lorne delayed in giving it.

“I don’t know, but I imagine-”

“How many children does an average male couple have?”

“I don’t know, but probably-”

“How many of them serve in your military?”

“We don’t have an exact number, b-”

“How many of those attracted to their own sex serve in other key position on your world?”

“Many, I don’t know the exact number-”

“What is the percentage of disorders amongst those who share this perversion of same sex attraction?”

“_I don’t know, but I’m sure that it’s just the same as the rest of the population!_” Lorne said through clenched teeth, launching out of his chair, and John winced. If Shedim’s goal was to upset Lorne, he was doing outstandingly well.

They were not prepared for such questions. They could have lied but Woolsey said, wisely, that they shouldn’t lie about things that weren’t connected to their personal lives unless there was no other course of action. And while this case definitely merited lying, Lorne was never given the chance. Shedim seemed too keen on firing questions before Lorne could explain his answers properly.

Shedim stopped and allowed silence to envelope the amphitheater. John could see Noman, up in the stands with his head buried in his hands. Beside him Teyla and Ronon looked so tense that any sound would probably make them jump and start shooting off randomly at anything that moved. Next to John, Lorne was breathing somewhat raggedly, eyes blazing with anger and resentment.

Shedim smiled a brief smile, but it still had no victory in it. He looked like he was on a personal crusade.

“’Probably’, ‘I imagine’, ’I don’t have’, ‘I don’t know’,” Shedim slowly repeated the words into the silence. “And you expect us to believe you,” he added snidely, almost accusingly, to Lorne.

“You’re asking me questions I don’t have the answers to here and now! If you’d let us go back to our city we can bring you all the information that you need!” Lorne called back indignantly.

“Oh, I want you to go back to your city. And stay there,” Shedim answered. Lorne’s expression darkened.

“Look, what the hell is your problem? Why don’t you get it out in the open and we’ll deal with it!?” he challenged. John knew that Lorne only did it because he was sure that Shedim had a problem with what he saw last night.

“My problem? My problem is the abomination that you and your Colonel represent, Major!”

“No, you don’t have a problem with homosexuality. You have a problem with John and me,” Lorne countered, taking a few steps forward towards the stands. John hurried after him and placed a hand on his arm to stop him from moving forward and breaking the rules of the debate. It was forbidden for anyone who was speaking during the debate to step off of the central podium. Lorne allowed John stop him, but never once turned back. “What is your problem with us?” he demanded hotly.

“My problem is that you are the first aliens we’ve ever encountered and we’re supposed to trust you and ally ourselves with you based solely on your word and quite frankly, I think you’re lying to secure my undeserving opponent his victory in these elections!” Shedim called back.

“You think we’re lying?” Lorne asked incredulously. “After everything we said and everything you saw you still think we’re lying!?”

“I saw nothing to convince me otherwise,” Shedim replied harshly. John looked between Lorne and Shedim. Whether Shedim was denying what he saw last night or simply didn’t believe it was hard to tell. And then there was Lorne.

Lorne was angry. John had thought that Lorne had managed to get over his reactions to Shedim’s provocations but today it seemed like Shedim’s arrows went straight for the bull’s-eye. That question about diseases brought back the unpleasant association between homosexuality and AIDS, John knew. Shedim didn’t know that, of course. He would probably never understand what a condom was and how not using it caused the spread of the disease, but if he did he’d probably jump at it.

John had a nasty feeling that Lorne’s agitation was connected with what they had done last night. Maybe he had been mistaken, maybe Lorne wasn’t quite so calm about it. Not that John could blame him, his commanding officer had molested him thoroughly. Even John was agitated about it.

Lorne gave a small laugh suddenly, a laugh that if John wasn’t standing as close to him as he was he never would have picked up. When John turned to look at him, there was deep regret in his eyes and an unusual paleness to his skin. He looked like he had just lost something important to him, but John couldn’t figure out what it was. John stepped closer, wanting – needing – to make that expression go away even without knowing how, when Lorne suddenly spoke.

“Let’s settle this once and for all,” Lorne said quietly into the tense silence that surrounded them after Shedim’s last words. His voice was strangely hoarse, and suddenly John changed his opinion. Lorne didn’t look like someone who had just lost something, but like someone who had nothing more to lose.

“Let’s settle this once and for all!” he called louder, and turned around to face John. Before John could even understand what was happening, Lorne closed the gap between them and kissed John on the lips.

The kiss wasn’t aggressive like John was half expecting. Lorne was aggravated and John expected it to translate into their kiss, but instead Lorne’s lips were gently caressing John’s and his tongue was sweeping lightly over John’s mouth. Lorne’s hands, which settled on either side of John’s face to prevent him from turning his head away, gently stroked his cheeks and neck. His eyes were closed and his brows drawn together, but his kiss was infinitely tender and sweet.

Realization dawned on John suddenly. Lorne wasn’t doing it to prove anything to anyone. He was kissing John like he wanted to memorize him, hurriedly trying to cover as much of him as he could before he’d be pushed away. He was trembling slightly against John’s body and tears were coming down from under his closed eyelids.

Lorne loved him. Lorne kissed him not only to prove his point, but because he thought that it would be the first and last time he would ever have such an opportunity. He didn’t touch John last night simply for their audience’s sake. And most importantly, he wouldn’t have responded the way he did last night to anyone other than John.

That last thought woke John from his stupor with a thrill. Not anyone was enough. Only John.

John held Lorne –_Evan_ – in place just when he was about to pull away. He sneaked his hand around Evan’s back and onto his nape and prevented him from moving aside. Then, once he had Evan in place, John kissed back with confidence and relief that left him nearly powerless.

Evan made a surprised sound at the back of his throat but John’s hand rose from his back to caress his cheek, silencing him. His lips coaxed Evan’s open and he thrust inside, instantly drunk with Evan’s heady taste. Evan was a little sour and definitely masculine, the taste of him driving John to kiss him deeper, devouring him.

Evan was still trying to fight him, his hands on John’s hips subtly yet insistently pushing him back, but when John bit his lower lip gently in warning his resistance melted away and his body melted into John’s, hands going around John’s back and lips kissing back with plenty of enthusiasm.

Oh god, it felt so good. Evan’s warm and wide body flush against John’s, his hands on John’s back and in his hair, and Evan’s tongue fighting with him to dominate the kiss. John was in his own private heaven. The sensations that coursed through his body were even better than the night before, his arousal so much stronger with Evan fighting him and mashing their mouths and tongues together.

John felt perspiration breaking on his skin. Evan was a good kisser and all John wanted to do was find the closest available horizontal surface and taste every part of Evan’s body. He broke away from the kiss and instantly dived for Evan’s neck, latching onto his pulse point and sucking while Evan’s hands clenched in his hair and brought him closer. Evan moaned and angled his neck to offer him better access, and John happily cupped his cheek and arranged him to his satisfaction, nipping and licking the skin under his lips and relishing the rasp of Evan’s five o’clock shadow under his lips.

A sudden, shrill bell caused John to stop what he was doing. He suddenly remembered that they were at the amphitheater and that they had an audience, and was amazed that he had yet again lost himself in Evan. When he looked up he could see one of the neutral observers holding a bell in his hands and looking absolutely scandalized. Shedim sat in his seat, looking amazed and defeated and Noman looked pale and miserable. John’s team was staring down at them in complete shock.

John turned to Evan and saw Evan blanching. He looked back at John with horror in his eyes while a red and angry mark was blooming on his throat. When the sound that signaled the end of the debate was heard a second later, he pushed past John and fled the room, disappearing into the crowd of people piling out.


	11. Chapter 11

John departed the amphitheater as quickly as he could, rushing after Evan’s retreating form. Everyone made way for him when he ran up the stairs until the neutral observers’ leader, Manhig, stopped him by placing a hand on his arm. His old face wrinkled further with a concerned expression.

“I hope your Second didn’t do anything that he shouldn’t have because of us, Colonel. I apologize if we have offended your culture,” Manhig said, his long beard quivering with the start of Parkinson’s.

“What does it matter? You had no problems allowing Shedim to interrogate us,” John accused the old man, wrenching his hand away. From the corners of his eyes he could see Noman coming closer and John’s team just behind him. They were all looking shocked and concerned, and even Teyla looked like she couldn’t find the right words to so much as call out to John and ask how he was doing. 

“There is a difference between allowing the political game to take its course and insulting the first alien race we’ve ever encountered,” Manhig replied, and John huffed. He really didn’t have time for that. He’d be late for the transport if he stayed there much longer, and Evan was bound to have already taken the earlier one, judging from the time gap between them.

“Yes, well, you did. And right now I need to go after my Second and have a long talk with him about it,” John answered and ran for the transport, leaving Manhig – and his shocked teammates – behind.

When John burst into the street people seemed to freeze. Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him, ogling with quiet disbelief. Of course, John thought as he cursed quietly, they’d all watched Evan and him on their version of a TV.  John ignored them and jogged to the transport, jumping into a cart that two elderly women occupied just before the transport left the station. He was sure that they, too, stared at him but he didn’t care.

Somehow, the ride seemed too long. That particular transport traveled much slower than the others, or so it felt to John. It didn’t help that the entire town seemed to screech to a halt in order to stare at him no matter where he traveled to.

When John finally reached Noman’s office he ran inside and burst into his and Evan’s guest room, panting heavily and frantically looking in every direction, but found the room empty.

Evan wasn’t there.

John walked to that cursed window and banged it close so hard the glass rattled in its frame. After that John collapsed on the bed and buried his head in his hands much like Noman did during the debate. Evan wasn’t there, and things were so complicated John didn’t even know where to start.

Evan loved him, there was little doubt about that. His kiss, his behavior, everything indicated it. Hell, thinking back John realized that Evan was so deeply in love with him that he never even noticed Sote's interest, something that was very obvious to everyone else.

But what about John?

John was Evan’s commanding officer. John was a guy just like Evan was. John had felt such a rush when Evan was holding him and proving to him that John was the only one who could pleasure him like last night that he felt like he could take on a Wraith Hive all by himself. John was so drunk from Evan’s kiss that he had once again forgotten that an entire world, not to mention their friends, was watching.

The door opened suddenly and John raised his head to see Evan standing uncertainly in the entrance.

John immediately got up and glared at him, angry at Evan for making him worry and not really sure how to solve all the conflicts between want and need, reason and responsibility, that were raging inside of him. He was never good at these sorts of things.

“Where the hell have you been!?” John demanded, motioning Evan into the room. Evan closed the door behind him, but didn’t go far from it.

“I walked back here,” Evan replied quietly, voice defeated. John hated the way that tone colored his voice.

“No one tried to attack you?” he asked, remembering the way people stared at him when he was on the transport.

“Not really,” Evan replied once again, short and quiet.

John looked at him, measuring. “So,” he started, thinking that they needed to clear a few things up before he could even start working on his own problems. “You’re bi or gay?” he asked, bluntly. At this point they really had no reason to beat around the bush.

“Gay,” Evan admitted.

“And let me guess, you figured this out at the age of sixteen?” John continued, remembering what Evan had said to Shedim earlier.

Evan simply nodded.

“How does it work, exactly?” John asked, getting a bit angry at Evan’s uncooperativeness. Or rather, he was cooperating, but it was meek and submissive and so unlike him that John’s temper flared. Did he even realize what happened on that podium in the amphitheater? That John returned his kiss and had no intentions of pushing him away?

“At the end of the day, when you’ve been through something hard or after being in a tense situation, it doesn’t really matter what’s between the legs of the person who sucks you off,” Evan said. “All that matters is that you’re both discreet.”

John saw red at that. At the thought of Evan on his knees and sucking other men off. “So what, am I not discreet enough or the situations I’ve been in weren’t tense enough?” John asked harshly, and Evan’s head snapped up for the first time since he got into the room.

“I would never have done that with you,” he stressed hotly, eyes shining with resentment.

“Because you love me,” John shot back, and almost winced when it came out as an accusation. Damnit, he should be screaming it from the rooftops with as much happiness as he could muster. But in the heat of the moment, after having tortured himself all morning with the thought of Evan enjoying anyone’s touch and now hearing him talk about going down on other men, John was so mad he wasn’t really listening to reason.

Evan’s eyes returned to studying the floor intensely. “Yes,” he admitted, almost in a whisper.

“How long?” John asked, needing to know.

“Does it matter?” Evan smiled bitterly, an expression that was more pained than anything else.

“Yes,” John deadpanned. Because it did. It had for a while now. There was no question about it.

“Probably since the minute I met you,” Evan confessed sadly, and John was unpleasantly surprised. Was Evan playing with him now?

“I didn’t exactly make myself lovable during that time,” John reminded him harshly.

Evan shrugged, a jerky motion, eyes stubbornly on the floor. “I’m not a woman. I don’t need you to woo me to make me love you,” he said, his defiance surfacing again, but despite his obvious irritation he remained in his place, not saying anything more. 

“Zelenka and Keller know too, don’t they?”

A sharp nod.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” John demanded. It was easier to cling onto the anger than to force out words like ‘stay’ and ‘kiss me’.

Evan’s eyes looked up once more, bright with fury. “It has nothing to do with you!”

“It has everything to do with me! This is me we’re _talking_ about!”

“It has nothing to do with you because I never planned on doing anything about it!” Evan’s voice rose a little for the first time, angry and humiliated, and John was taken aback. “It was something that was private and mine, and I would never have told you this under any other circumstance!” he said heatedly.

“Why?” John asked, genuinely interested in the answer, and Evan laughed incredulously.

“Why?” he echoed disbelievingly. “I wasn’t in Atlantis for five minutes before I heard of your infamous reputation. What was it, a girl on every world? Sometimes even two? Come on, you’re the typical heterosexual lover, if not the reincarnation of Captain Kirk like McKay claims all the time!” Evan accused derisively. “Besides, you hated me from the moment you first saw me at the SGC, and whatever approval I might have achieved from you during our time on Olam is probably gone now.”

John stared at Evan, not really sure what to say. Evan had it all wrong, but the words seemed stuck in John’s mouth and all tangled into each other just like every time he needed to talk about how he felt. Of course he didn’t hate Evan. He had no time to think about it, but he was sure that hatred was definitely not what he felt. He needed just a few minutes to sort it out himself and then he could tell Evan exactly-

“Look, we’re very close to getting what we came here for. I never wanted any of this to happen, if it’s any consolation to you, and I never meant for you to find out. But you did, and I’m sorry but we need to continue with this pretense until the elections,” Evan talked on without leaving John much time to respond. “It’s best that you continue pretending I’m Teyla or Chaya or whoever it is that you’re thinking of every time we’re doing something. The moment we’re be back in Atlantis I’ll put in for reassignment, so you don’t have to worry about it anymore,” Evan declared, voice harsh and eyes stony.

John was about to say something, anything, when Evan turned away and bit his lower lip. For a moment he seemed like his self control was failing him. Then, before John could even reach out, Evan had opened the door and was gone.

John watched the closed door for a moment, wondering if he should go after Evan, but Evan seemed to need some space to gather himself together. Even if John did go after him, he had no idea what he was going to say.

He knew only one thing. When Evan declared that John hated him John wanted to tell him that that was the polar opposite of what he was feeling. When Evan looked like he was about to lose everything back on the podium during the debate, John had needed to do something, anything, to erase that expression. When Evan kissed him, John forgot everything. When Evan offered himself, John couldn’t get enough.

That led John to a conclusion he couldn’t deny anymore. It was impossible to.

He loved Evan Lorne. This wasn’t a crush, nor simple lust. John _loved_ him.

John had never been in love with a man before, and it was easy to confuse the desire to seek Evan out and spend time with him with making up for lost time with a new and nearly overlooked friend. John has never been attracted to another man before so it was easy to confuse the heat of it with embarrassment at touching Evan’s naked skin while they had their pictures taken. But now John realized that he was in love with Evan Lorne, and there couldn’t be any confusing his intoxicated reaction to Evan’s kiss for anything else.

It was absurd. It wasn’t even two weeks since they first began their trips to Olam. John had never fallen in love with someone so fast. It took him five months before he finally told Nancy that he loved her, and a year to even start thinking about proposing to her. So how could he fall in love with someone, a male someone, in less than two weeks?

John quelled his momentary panic, taking a deep breath. There was no use thinking about it now. It was done and over with. What he should be thinking of was Evan.

Things suddenly started making sense, pieces of the puzzle falling into place. Including the reason why Evan reacted so strongly to any 'abomination' comment from Shedim. Basically Evan took personally every insult, every derogatory name and every vicious comment Shedim or anyone else had ever said because they were referring to him.

A horrible realization sank in John’s mind when he thought about it. Evan’s scar, that jagged and marring scar on his abdominal muscles, was caused because Evan was beaten over his sexual preferences. It made John feel like there was a hole in the pit of his stomach.

For Evan everything was true, too close to home to be comfortable.

And every explanation Evan had ever given about homosexuality was from experience.

John’s chest tightened with fury at the thought of Evan gaining such experience, and he huffed. He was never the jealous type. Not to this extent. Even after Nancy told him about Greg-Grant-what’s-his-name and that she wanted a divorce John wasn’t as jealous as he was at the mere thought of Evan with other men.

But Evan also loved him, which was a great comfort for John on the one hand and brought on a great sadness on the other. John didn’t want to think of what it felt like to be embraced by the person you love and know that they had to force themselves limb by limb to do it.

For Evan none of their time on Olam was pretence.

It was all real.

A knock was heard on the door and John rose to his feet, nearly running to open it. He didn’t even realize just how much he was expecting Evan and wanting him there until he felt the crushing disappointment that the door opened to reveal Noman.

Noman cracked a tiny smile that didn’t quite reach his sad eyes. “Colonel Sheppard,” he greeted politely, and waited until John managed to get his throat to work again.

John’s lip curled. “Come to throw us out?” he asked rudely, turning sharply from the door and leaving it open for Noman to do whatever he wanted. Either come in and close it behind him or call for the peace forces.

Noman closed the door behind him and came to sit on one of the chairs in the middle of the room, but not before casting a wary look at the closed window. John snorted, knowing exactly why he was doing it. John himself remained standing next to him, in no mood for long conversations or an accusations session. 

“I came here to talk, Colonel,” Noman said eventually. “But I have a feeling that it wasn’t me you were expecting when you opened the door, but you’re Second.”

For Evan it was all real.

“We’re not a couple,” John said bluntly, shortly. He didn’t care that he just threw away many days’ worth of pretence and time invested, two ZPMs, personal shields and weapons, six thousand drones and a possible way of creating a safe haven for everyone in this galaxy. Evan had suffered enough of this. John couldn’t allow Evan to go through another week of this torture, not even for this high a reward. Atlantis managed thus far, it would continue to do so even after Olam threw them out.

John looked down at Noman, expecting him to be outraged or maybe even relieved that John was the first to call the bluff. But Noman surprised him by remaining calm. “I know,” he said simply. “I knew from the moment I first saw you,” he added.

John turned fully to Noman, stunned. He knew? He knew the whole time? “You knew!?” John asked, enraged. They were being played with, manipulated. John hated being out of control like that, and he hated being someone’s pawn. That wasn’t even taking into account what Evan had gone through.

“I did,” Noman confirmed, looking at John with sorrowful eyes. “You are forgetting that I’m campaigning for equal rights for male couples, and trust me that I don’t do this solely out of the goodness of my heart. Also, I have spent thirty-one of your years studying history and culture. The first thing I would have assumed when talking to an alien is that names and meanings would not be the same,” he explained calmly, rationally, and John felt like a fool. They should have thought about it too. Any world that is cut off from the Stargate network for this long would have developed independently, and John read enough files at the SGC to know it was true. No world this advanced could fall for such a stupid misunderstanding.

“Then why did you let it get this far, damnit!?” John demanded, furious. “Why ask us to pretend to be a couple in the first place!?”

Noman sighed heavily and closed his eyes for a moment. “Because I was losing. I could see that you were willing to give me just about anything I’d ask for in exchange for the contents of the hidden chamber and I was losing the elections,” Noman said quietly, eyes honest as he continued to maintain eye contact with John.

“And besides, once you’d agreed and I knew that you so desperately needed those Ancestral devices I needed to get to know you better so that I’d know if you were who you claimed to be and would do with the devices what you claimed to be planning to,” he added.

John stared at him, not really over his anger at being played with. “Well, you’ve learned enough to know that we would lie and do just about everything to get what we want, so I don’t suppose that we’ll be getting those ZPMs now,” he said tightly, unhappily.

Noman got up and took a step closer, eyes intent. “On the contrary, Colonel Sheppard. I have learned that you speak the truth about almost anything you have told me. I have learned that you are respectful and patient, and indeed the saviors you claim to be,” he told John emphatically.

John looked at him, dubious. “How did you learn that?” he asked, sure that he was now being laughed at.

Noman’s head tilted to the side. “Colonel,” he started slowly, “We have no idea what those devices in the hidden chamber do. We are not far enough ahead in our understanding that we can use them, and we have no platforms from which to do it. Furthermore, we can’t even get to them without you here to open the wall. You have firepower that we have never encountered before, and technology to fly through space. Had you been the kind to deceive people out of malice, you would have stolen what you wanted by now. But you have chosen to go through all these troubles to fulfill my conditions, all the while respecting our wishes and laws,” Noman explained.

John thought it over. The only reason they didn’t simply took what they needed was that the damn Coalition decided to stick their noses where they didn’t belong, but Noman didn’t need to know that.

Noman sat down once again, motioning to John to sit as well. “I’m not the fool some people see me as, Colonel. And despite appearance, I do care more about my people than about winning the upcoming elections. An alliance between us would benefit my people greatly, especially after all that I’ve seen and heard about the Wraith,” Noman said.

John sat quietly, not really sure how he should respond. If the circumstances were different, he might have made an effort to take interest in the renewed offer of alliance, but he had just thrown away their chances for ever getting the Ancient weapons and couldn’t care less. During his first year on Atlantis he was willing to give up everything to defend his people. He even remembered justifying Ford’s suggestion to steal the ZPM from the kids’ planet to Teyla. But he had since learned differently. There were other ways, and they’d manage to defeat the Wraith even without the ZPMs and drones.

He wasn’t so sure that he was willing to sacrifice Evan to get those. He could save Evan the hurt by saying a few simple words, he knew, but for that he needed privacy and time he would never get here. And he would need to find the right words to say it, and think long and hard about whether he really wanted to break the rules he had sworn to uphold.

“I’m curious, though,” Noman’s voice interrupted the silence that had enveloped the room. “Why do you refer to Major Lorne as your Second?”

John looked at him, weighing his options. He had no idea what Noman wanted, but at this point it didn’t really matter. “He’s my _second in command_. If anything happens to me, he’ll be the one to replace me. He’s the second highest ranking military officer in Atlantis,” John said finally. There was little point in hiding anymore.

“So you haven’t been coupled?”

“No,” John said hoarsely, heavily. He cleared his throat and continued. “In the United States military same sex couples are forbidden from serving. Whoever does that, does that in secret,” John explained, thinking of Evan once again. He would never have guessed but then, he never bothered paying it any attention. He wondered whether he’d have noticed Evan’s feelings if he had.

Noman’s eyes looked at him with compassion. “I’m sorry to hear that. I was sure that even if the two of you weren’t bonded, you really were in love,” he said gently.

John snorted at the irony in his words. “I’m not sure that we’re not,” he replied.

“I don’t understand.”

“Evan loves me. He told me so. He shouldn’t love me. I’m his male commanding officer,” John sighed. “And I shouldn’t love him,” he added quietly.

“Yet you do, but?” Noman filled in for what was left unsaid.

John found himself, oddly enough, relieved to be telling this to someone. He wasn’t so sure his teammates would understand. For that matter, he wasn’t sure what his teammates’ responses would be at all. He knew that the Athosians didn’t care one way or another about homosexuals, but he had no idea of what Seteda was like or how Rodney would react. Noman knew so much by now that anything more would make little difference.

“I’ve never had feeling for a man before,” John started. “I’ve dated many women, was even married to one, but I don’t really know how to be with a man,” he said, surprised at how desperate he sounded. He was desperate not to lose Evan, and it scared him.

Noman leaned forward, bringing his forearms to rest on his knees. “What do you do on your world with women?” he asked, smiling gently.

John grimaced. “All those clichéd things, I guess. You take them out to a movie or a fancy restaurant, you spend a lot of time talking, you kiss and make out…” John listed dejectedly.

“And with men you take them out to a movie or a fancy restaurant, you spend a lot of time talking and you kiss and make out, quite a lot if I understood you properly,” Noman said, amused when John looked up at him, irritated. If John wanted his words thrown back at him, he’d record himself speaking.

Noman chuckled. “A man is every bit the human being that a woman is. There are little differences, yes, but we enjoy the same things women do,” Noman explained. “Or do men from your world not enjoy the things you have just said?”

“They do,” John replied, sighing. He sucked at emotions. He wasn’t even able to tell Teyla that he thought of her, Ronon and Rodney as family outright. She was able to guess, but probably only because she had worked side by side with John for the past three years prior to that conversation.

“I think you should talk to him, Colonel. Happiness is too short lived for us to allow ourselves to pass it over,” Noman advised, and his words prompt John to think about something he had never considered before. He had never questioned Noman’s motives for campaigning for gay rights, assuming that it was because he wanted to make an impact or felt that the cause was just. Even if he had a personal gain in his interest winning, John never gave it much thought. Now there was an aura of sadness about Noman that had John wondering.

“Who’s your lover?” John asked straightforwardly. Noman had said that he wasn’t campaigning for equal rights for male couples out of the goodness of his heart, which meant that he too had a male lover.

Noman’s answering smile was rueful and he looked away for a moment before answering. “Avar died three years ago. He always wanted to be able to take me to see his family, but as long as we were seen as abomination by the law he couldn’t. They are some of our most respected law-upholders and would never have accepted us. I swore on his deathbed that one day I’ll make his wish come true,” Noman said softly before looking back at John.

“And that’s why you should grab what you have right now before it’s gone, Colonel. Your Major Lorne seemed very miserable when we met in the hallway just before I came here,” he added, and John’s attention immediately centered on him.

“You saw Evan?” John asked urgently. Short lived happiness or not, there were things that John needed to set right with Evan. Many things. So many that he had no idea of where to begin. But he did know that he needed to find Evan first.

“I have. He mentioned something about taking the transport out of town and towards the Soer River. He said that Nahar was taking him to paint the view there,” Noman said, rising to his feet. “Shall we go? I’ll take you there too,” he offered John, indicating the door with his head.

John got up as well and took a deep breath. He had no idea what he wanted to say. Had no idea whether he should even say something about his feelings, given his and Evan’s positions on Atlantis. But he did know that he had to try. At the very least, he had tell Evan that the pretence was over.

John nodded his head at Noman. “Let’s go.”

~o~o~o~o~

It took them twenty minutes of travel by transport to get to the place where the rail ended and the mountains began. They traveled north, where a long range of mountains towered over the landscape and shadowed the valleys below. The peaks of the range were white with snow and clouds, and were almost as breathtaking as the Rockies back home. Next to them ran the Soer River, which was wide and adorned with floating blocks of ice that washed down from the spring melt. The current was slow and lazy and in places where the river was particularly shallow John could see strange black fish swimming next to the bank.

John could understand why Evan wanted to paint such beautiful scenery. He was also grateful that he had brought his jacket along for the ride, because the rail passed close to the bank and John could feel the freezing air that circled around the river.

When they reached the end of the rail and their cart stopped next to Evan’s and Nahar’s, John and Noman climbed down and walked the short distance from the station to the nearby slope that led down to the riverbank. John could see Evan and Nahar, their easels standing so close to the water that John wondered how they didn’t topple over, each holding a palette of colors and a brush.

They weren’t that far from the painters. Maybe sixty feet. John stopped for a moment as he watched Nahar close to Evan, probably commenting to him on something about the scenery or about the techniques they were using. Evan had enthusiastically explained to him about his meetings with Nahar enough times for John to imagine what they were doing now.

John grimaced. He still hadn’t worked out what to tell Evan. Or what he wanted to do with his own feelings. He had no idea what was going to happen when they meet, but he knew that they needed to talk.

John was about to hail Evan, not wanting to make him feel cornered, when he saw Nahar’s hands on Evan’s back. The next thing he knew Evan was in the water, clothed arms flailing while his pale face surfaced and disappeared between blocks of ice. Evan opened his mouth and tried to call out but no sound came out.

Then he went under and didn’t surface again.

John was running towards him even before Evan disappeared under the water. John was coughing and choking, his chest and throat burning from the sudden effort of the run combined with taking in lungfuls of chilly air, but he managed to keep up with the pace of the river and scanned the channel ahead of him for a way to get to Evan without getting into the water himself.

A line of jutting stones that crossed the river appeared just behind a small curve, and John rushed to it and situated himself on the middle ones. He waited anxiously, pulse elevated and hands shaking, chest tightening in fear.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before Evan’s body floated to him, but finally it did and thankfully with his face turning up, so John grabbed a fistful of freezing cold and sodden wet sleeve and pulled.

But Evan’s clothes were laden with icy water and John had no leverage. His hand strained and he nearly lost the grip he had on Evan’s deadweight. Even with both hands on him, John couldn’t haul Evan up or drag him away towards the bank, and he slowly felt as though his arms were tearing and with them Evan.

“No!” he yelled, putting everything he had into pulling, and suddenly there was an extra pair of hands helping him and Evan’s body moved much more easily. John looked to the side and saw Noman’s strained face scowling fiercely at the body in the water.

Inch by inch, they somehow managed to steer Evan towards the bank, and once there they pulled him up and out of the water, working until John thought he really had strained his wrists. Evan was buff, heavy and he was wearing several layers of wet clothes.

Once they had Evan safely out of the water and on the first dry (and thankfully sunny) spot they could find, and once he checked that Evan was still miraculously breathing, John reached for the back of his belt and brought forth his knife. He was in Antarctica for a very short time, but one of the first things you learn when there is how to treat people who fell into the freezing ocean through holes in the thin and unreliable ice.

John cut Evan’s clothes away with quick and efficient movements, teeth clenched together powerfully as he concentrated on helping Evan rather than panicking. He cut away Evan’s shirt, belt and pants while Noman worked on removing Evan’s boots without even being asked. Once Evan was out of his sodden uniform John undressed as well, struggling to get Evan into his own dry and warm jacket.

John looked up at him briefly. “Give me your cloak, and whatever other clothes you can spare!” John ordered urgently, gathering Evan in his arms and folding him to keep the surface of skin exposed to the cold air to a minimum.

“Evan,” John called, shaking the figure in his arms. Evan’s hair dripped icy water onto his shoulder and the bluish bruise that John had left on his neck stood in an angry contrast to his pale skin. “Evan, wake up! Damnit!” John shook him once again.

Noman handed John his cloak and shirt, which John quickly wrapped around Evan’s body as tightly as he could without even glancing up. John tried clicking his radio but one look at his wet shirt told him why he wasn’t even getting the usual RF static noise. His radio was out of commission, must’ve been ruined when they tried to drag Evan out of the water, and John cursed savagely.

“What more can I do?” Noman’s voice was anxious. When John did look up, he saw Noman standing in a pair of tailored pants and a simple white button-up undershirt.

John debated whether he could tend to Evan and still be on the watch for Nahar, who was still a threat if he was around. If he couldn’t divide his attention then Noman would have to help him get Evan to the transport, and John knew that it wouldn’t do Evan good to be moved right now.

“Nahar ran away using the transport,” Noman said when John looked around them, readying his wet sidearm in case Nahar would want to complete the job. At hearing this John was thankful for small graces. 

“Go get Rodney to fly Keller here with the Jumper. Tell them what happened so that Keller can be ready to help him,” John said briskly and then promptly returned his attention to the shaking body in his arms.

He didn’t even noticed Noman leaving.

John was shaking almost as bad as Evan, his guts tied in knots with fear and anxiety. He was never so afraid for anyone else in his entire life, and the thought that Evan could die had John wanting to scream in panic and horror.

“Evan! Come on, wake up!” John tried to get some sign of consciousness out of him, but Evan remained still. He couldn’t allow this to happen, couldn’t allow Evan to give up. “Damnit Major! That’s an order!” John tried shouting at him.

If he doesn’t make it…

John felt his panic rising to uncontrollable levels. He was rocking back and forth with Evan, hands shaking as they held him close to his own body to share body warmth. He couldn’t allow Evan to give up like that, not now.

There was a certainty in John, formed by what he had seen and the ever increasing pressure and fear that Evan wouldn’t make it, to tell Evan that he wasn’t alone in his feelings. He knew that if Evan made it, he’d throw Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and the frat regs, anything that stood in the way, to hell and grab this chance.

“Come on, Evan, please,” John found himself begging. “Wake up, please!” he pleaded with Evan, wrapping himself tightly around him and securing the covers with both hands.

Evan gave a tiny whimper suddenly and moved his head jerkily. “’M up-p-p,” he stammered through clattering teeth, and John felt an overwhelming wave of relief that actually left him weak.

John had to close his eyes and swallow hard before he was able to talk again, his voice raw with emotions. “How are you feeling?” John asked, hand roughly caressing Evan’s face and body.

“C-c-cold-d,” Evan managed, and John was struck with yet another wave of relief. Evan was coherent, which was good. Now all he needed to do was keep him that way.

“Can you open your eyes?” John asked gently into Evan’s ear. He watched as Evan tried, but as soon as his eyelids fluttered in place he gave a stuttering sob of pain and his body jerked in John’s arms.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” John hurried to reassure him, leaning his cheek on Evan’s wet head. He tried to resist it, tried to keep his mouth shut, but he needed to say those words more than anything right now. “I don’t know what I’d do if I’d have lost you,” he whispered into Evan’s ear and kissed his forehead lightly.

“W-w-why?” Evan stammered, shaking violently.

John looked down at him, cringing. Evan never believed that John might return his feelings. He took a deep breath. There was no time like the present. “Because I love you and I don’t want you to die before we even start exploring where this can go,” John confessed, the words spilling out in a blur so that he wouldn’t be overcome with the usual embarrassment and awkwardness that accompanied any emotional moment in his life thus far.

Evan made a strange sound. “Y-y-you d-don’t-t-t hav-v-ve t-t-to p-pity m-m-me,” Evan started, and John realized that he tried to snort in disbelief. “N-n-not-t j-just-t b-” he started again, but John cut him short.

“I don’t pity you,” he countered Evan harshly, angrily. “Were you there when all I wanted was to take that damn pillow away and fuck you? Or when I held you and kissed you even though you were trying to pull away?” he snapped, and immediately felt bad. He was snapping at a freezing man who couldn’t really keep up with him.

“T-think-k-king of-f-f T-t-teyl-la,” Evan replied stubbornly. It was actually impressive, the way he was standing his own ground even while freezing to death, but John didn’t dwell on that.

“I was thinking of you every time we did it,” he told Evan. “Of _your_ mouth, _your_ hands, _your_ flat and bony body and _your dick_.”

“L-l-liar-r,” was Evan’s reply. John was sure that if Evan wasn’t in hypothermic shock he would have been livid. But he was, and all he managed to do was attempt in vain to push John away. John thought that maybe getting Evan annoyed was actually a good thing, it could get him slightly warmed up. Whatever worked.

“I’m not lying,” John said while effortlessly readjusting his hold on Evan and bringing him closer.

“Y-y-you’r-re n-not-t g-g-gay.”

“No, I’m not. If anything, I might be bi. But the fact that I’ve never had a relationship with a guy doesn’t change-” John cut himself off, uncomfortable with saying it once again, but Evan gave a particularly violent shake and whimpered in pain again so John hastily continued. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you,” he finished.

Evan was silently shivering in his hold for a long while, and John was beginning to think that he had lost his consciousness. “Evan!” John called him sharply, causing him to jostle a little. Crap. That wasn’t good. Where was the jumper when they needed it?

“Listen, we’re going home. It’s complicated, but I’ve told Noman the truth. He already knew it, so I don’t really know what’s going to happen. But I do know this: when we get back and you get better, I’m going to take you to bed. How’s that?” John offered, desperate to keep Evan interested and talking back. He was telling the truth. He’d take Evan to his bed as soon as Evan was cleared for active duty once more. At that moment, with Evan shaking in his arms, there was nothing more he wanted.

“N-n-no,” Evan stammered faintly, surprising John.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“I w-won’t-t be t-the t-t-test-t sub-bject-t f-for y-your-r cur-rios-sity,” Evan managed, surprising John even more. John knew that there were men who were curious about sex with other men. They were the adventurous types, the ones that usually found a few flings before returning to their nice and feminine girlfriends. It suited John to be this adventurous, but Evan had underestimated him. It was true that John had never had a relationship with a man, but he had done certain things with men and he knew what gay sex entitled. He got over the curiosity phase a long time ago.

“I’m way past curiosity by now,” John said softly, kissing Evan’s cold cheek. “I was done being curious when I was eighteen,” he added.

In response, Evan only made an incoherent sound that was similar to an inquiry. He was shaking a little less, and John thought that it was a good sign. Maybe he was finally starting to get warmer. 

“Before I joined the force two of my high school buddies and I did… stuff. Blew each other off, mostly. _That_ was curiosity. This is something entirely different,” John explained. “So what do you say?” he asked, tense and waiting for Evan’s answer. Evan may still decide that it wasn’t a good idea, John knew. He was professional and rational like that, and the idea of the two of them together was crazy in more than just one way.

“I love you,” John whispered again desperately in Evan’s ear when Evan was quiet for some time. Evan was definitely shaking less and less now, and the shakings weren’t so violent anymore.

“L-lov-ve y-you t-t-too,” Evan replied in a strained whisper and John smiled, the weight of insecurity, fear and doubt lifting from his chest.

John was smiling so wide he was sure that Evan could see it even without opening his eyes. Gently, he angled Evan’s head to him and pressed his lips to Evan’s cold ones. Evan’s lips were shaking faintly but pressed back against his and warmed quickly under John’s butterfly kisses, which only encouraged John to continue.

But when John pressed harder the lips under his stopped responding and Evan’s head lolled to one side limply. The panic in John came back full force, griping his throat tightly.

“Evan!” John called sharply, but there was no response. “_Evan!_”

Frantically, John felt for Evan’s pulse point. His neck was cold and he had completely stopped shaking. When John’s trembling fingers finally found it, his pulse was weak and slow.

“Come on, Evan! Wake up!” John shouted at Evan, recognizing the lapse in his condition. The fact that he wasn’t shaking anymore was very bad. “_Damnit, Evan!_” he patted Evan’s cheek none too gently, but got no response. “Don’t do this!”

Evan was breathing raggedly and shallowly and his pulse was weak. John felt so helpless, unable to even perform basic CPR to help. John tried his radio again but it was still dead, and he angrily tore it off his vest and threw it aside. Where the hell was Keller when he needed her!?

He was in luck, it appeared. Just as John wrapped the cloak and jacket tighter around Evan he heard the distinct sound of the Jumper’s engine pods coming closer, like an answer to his prayers.

Rodney landed the Jumper somewhat unsteadily but Keller was through the rear hatch and running for Evan before the engine pods even retracted. She was carrying a handful of thermal blankets and hand warmers as well as her usual medical kit, and was ready with the stethoscope as soon as she was next to them.

“Talk to me, Colonel,” Keller ordered briskly while running a lightning fast test on Evan’s vitals. Teyla and Ronon arrived at a dead run and began wrapping Evan’s body in the blankets as soon as she was finished.

“He was pushed into the river,” John said, washed with relief that she was there, but with a hole still growing larger and larger in his stomach with every passing second. “He was face up in the water, but it took us a while before we managed to get him out. I wrapped him in dry clothes. He was coherent for most of the time, but he drifted in and out of consciousness…” John trailed off when Keller took out a rectal thermometer and with no hesitation at all pushed it between the blankets and into its proper place.

“When was the last time he was coherent?” Keller asked, deftly pushing a needle into Evan’s arm and hooking him to an IV which she had Ronon holding under his armpit.

“He lost consciousness a minute or so before you’ve arrived,” John supplied. The thermometer beeped, and Keller retrieved it. John could see that it read eighty-eight. He knew from his time in Antarctica that this was very, very bad.

“Let’s get him onto the Jumper, come on. We need to get him to Atlantis ASAP!” Keller didn’t even respond to the information John gave her. John helped Teyla and Rodney get Evan onto the stretcher and secured the blankets around him, but didn’t go in with them.

“Rodney, take them to Atlantis. I’ll follow on foot. I have something to say to the people of this damn world,” John ordered his friend. Rodney, face pale and eyes blazing with anger, took one look at him and nodded.

“I’ll go with you,” Ronon told John, voice hard and uncompromising, and handed Radek the IV bag to hold at body temperature. John didn’t really care as long as Evan arrived safely in Atlantis, and he trusted Rodney to do it.

“Go,” John ordered, watching Rodney take off and speeding the Jumper as fast as he could towards the gate. They’d be there in ten minutes and Evan might be okay. John wanted nothing more than to join him and be with him there, but he needed to get something clear with several people on Olam, especially Nahar.

Now that Evan was in capable hands and there was nothing more John could do for him, panic made way for fury. John had no idea what was going to happen to Evan, but he could and would make sure that nothing like that would ever occur again.

When John took out his sidearm to check it for bullets he was satisfied to see that Ronon also switched his gun to ‘kill’ mode. They were ready.

~o~o~o~o~

John jumped off the transport cart that carried Ronon and him back to the city and walked determinedly towards the Museum of Art, where the fancy dinner they had been invited to was held. Official signs written in a derivation of Ancient were scattered around the place, colorful banners and festive decorations adorning the closed front doors. This event was meant to be a celebration and a respite from the tiring political battle for everyone involved, a celebration to honor Union Day, their equivalent of Fourth of July.

With Ronon’s help John pushed open the large doors and stepped inside, and the entire hall went quiet. They looked anything but festive, and in John’s case his clothes still had big wet patches all over, and were late. According to John’s chronometer they were twenty minutes late, yet Noman wasn’t seen at all.

The hall contained a large U-shaped table that hosted every minister, candidate and observer in chairs that were carefully arranged far enough from the exhibition on the walls for it to be safe from passers by. On the tables were an array of plates and cups and every few feet attendants stood ready to bring in the food as soon as the last of the guests arrived.

The mood in the hall was restless prior to their arrival, John could tell by the annoyed looks sent their way, but he couldn’t care less. He scanned the room until he spotted Nahar, and moved forward.

Sote, the neutral observer who was ogling Evan, rose up angrily and turned to them. “Colonel Sheppard, where have you been!? We have been waiting for you and your companions for quite some time now and it’s rude to be late for-” John side stepped him and took out his sidearm when he saw that Nahar was trying to run, cutting Sote short.

“What’s the meaning of this!?” Shedim rose to his feet as well, and several officers of the peace forces who were posted around the room left their stations in a run and tried to restrain John, but John trusted Ronon to fend them off.

Nahar, after seeing that the peace forces were useless against John, dived down and hid himself behind Shedim’s body, looking pale and sweaty. John’s lip curl in disgust and he aimed his sidearm straight at Shedim. “Move,” John said in a steady, deadly voice.

Shedim blanched, staring at the gun. “We don’t kill people for no reason on Olam, Colonel. What’s going on?” he asked, confused, but didn’t make any attempt to move.

“Like you don’t know!” John snarled, furious. “Like he wasn’t working under you’re orders!” he accused.

“Who did what?” Shedim looked genuinely confused.

“Nahar. Pushed Evan deliberately into the Soen River!”

Shedim turned to the man behind him, a spark of anger in his eyes that surprised John. “What have you done, you _imbecile_!?” he grabbed Nahar by the collar of his long cloak and pushed him away and into John’s line of fire, though probably not intentionally.

“They are an abomination! I didn’t believe it first, I thought that they were only playing along to get their hands on our weapons and artifacts, but they really are abominations!” Nahar spat contemptuously.

John raised his gun and re-aimed, angry as he had never been in his life, but several people stepped out from the crowd and came to stand in his line of fire once again. “Move away!” John ordered impatiently. No one moved and no one spoke. “You heard him admitting what he’d done!” but this, too, got him only silence.

John lowered his gun, shocked. “So it’s okay because Evan is my lover? Because he likes men instead of women? It doesn’t matter that he might _die_ because of this prejudiced and narrow-minded ass!?” he demanded from the silent crowd.

Everyone in the room looked at him, firmly keeping their silence.

“What is wrong with you people!? This is a human being we’re talking about! Who cares what people do in their own beds at night, let them. It’s none of your damn business!” John called, frustrated that even when he released the safety catch people didn’t budge. “Do you even know what you’re missing? The potential of knowledge and wealth that you might be overlooking simply because someone likes men better than women?” he demanded.

“Shep, you’re wasting your time,” Ronon growled from behind him, where he was holding the two remaining peace officers neutralized. 

“I think so too,” John agreed grimly. He looked at the line of people that stood between him and Nahar. “Move, _or I will shoot you_,” he promised, dead serious. “And I have enough firepower to take out all of you, believe me.”

“Don’t!” the call came from behind him and John turned to see Noman, still in his tailored pants and simple shirt, breathing heavily and supporting an equally short of breath Manhig. Next to them was what looked like an entire platoon of peace guards.

“’Don’t’?” John echoed disbelievingly, now so furious he didn’t mind shooting Noman as well. “You were there!” he accused, feeling betrayed.

“Yes, Colonel. I was. And the moment I’d alerted your friends as to what happened, I filed charges against Nahar on behalf of the people of Olam,” John continued to scowl at him darkly, teeth clenched together to keep a growl back.

“I know what he did, Colonel, but we do not punish by these means! Trust me that he will pay for his crimes and will receive the strictest punishment there is in our laws,” Noman called desperately when he saw that John didn’t lower his gun.

“He will indeed pay, Colonel Sheppard,” the voice was Shedim’s, and when John turned to him he could see Shedim holding Nahar down while the latter desperately tried to escape. John looked at him with suspicion. Was Shedim serious?

“We are lawful people, Colonel. I may not agree with the type of relationship you and Major Lorne share, and I will fight it to the last of my days, but I will do so lawfully. And Nahar will receive his punishment for breaking the law, _from the hands of the law_ and its representatives,” Shedim explained, his face set in a hard expression.

“I give you my word, Colonel. You may put down your weapon, it’s not needed,” Manhig, who seemed to have recovered his breathe at long last, spoke up.

But John had had enough. “I don’t want your word,” he said coldly. He returned the safety catch to place but didn’t return his gun to his thigh holster. “I don’t need anything from you. Whatever diplomatic relationship was forming between our people until now doesn’t seem to have a very promising future, so I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for you to wake the hell up and see just how big of fools you all are,” John said contemptuously. He turned to Ronon and jerked his head towards the exit, and Ronon nodded, unceremoniously throwing the two peace officers he was holding on the floor.

Without a word they made their way through the crowd of people to the doors. People made way for them when they passed, and they reached the entrance fairly quickly. As John passed next to Noman and Manhig, Noman said nothing but his eyes showed endless regret.

No one tried to stop them and no one called after them. No one gave them any reason to take out some of their anger.

John almost wished that they had.


	12. Chapter 12

It was two weeks before Evan was released from the infirmary. John visited him there every day, but every time he was there Evan was asleep. In response to his question, Keller had explained that Evan’s condition deteriorated from hypothermia stage 2 to stage 3 when he had stopped shivering, and the condition was life threatening so it was natural that he’d need time to recover.

Woolsey had received John’s explanation about being manipulated by Noman, and agreed that there was room for caution. He had recommended that the situation would be reviewed once Evan was released from the infirmary, and luckily the SGC agreed. It appeared that they were pacified by the mining teams on their way to M5R-037 and didn’t press the issue.

After handing their initial reports over to Woolsey, none of the people who were present on Olam had spoken to John about his and Evan’s kiss. As a matter of fact, no one had spoken to him about Evan at all, not even Rodney or Teyla, and John was relieved. It was hard enough to try and organize his own thoughts in his head without having to explain them to someone else.

He also had no way of knowing how his teammates would react, but considering that no one was casting him weird looks, no one had stopped talking to him and no one had ambushed him outside his office and beat the crap out of him, he figured that the secret was safe and that they were not completely adverse to it.

John had had a chance to think about what had happened long and hard. Evan wasn’t there to confuse him. Or, at least, to offer any kind of resistance. John found himself sneaking off to the infirmary in the middle of the night simply to sit with Evan while he thought about everything that had occurred. If Keller knew about those nocturnal visits, she never hinted at it.

John had never tried to have a relationship with a man. He never even thought that he’d be able to find any man attractive enough to get him to respond back, but obviously he was wrong. Even at night in his room long after it was done, the mere memory of Evan offering himself up to John was enough to make John hard and frustrated.

There was more, of course. So much more. Evan and John spent just under two weeks together on the whole, but the short time in which John had fallen for him only served to reinforce the connection that was formed between the two of them. John had little doubt that he’d find the rest of Evan just as alluring and interesting as the parts of Evan he was already familiar with.

Then there was the fact that Evan was John’s subordinate and a fellow Air Force officer. John had broken many rules and regulations in his life, including disobeying direct orders. On several occasions. The fact that he wasn’t in jail was nothing short of a miracle, and he knew that he had Elizabeth, Carter and Woolsey to thank for that.

But there was a difference between disobeying a direct order to save Atlantis, Earth or fellow expedition members and disregarding several rules at once for his own personal gain. And Evan meant both fraternization and Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell going out the window. This time if they were caught John knew that nothing in his record, no commendations and nothing Woolsey, Carter or even O’Neill would say could get him out. He’d be taken away from Atlantis, be discharged with dishonor, his rights revoked and he’d be thrown into jail.

It took John a very long time to reach any kind of a decision, when he could see in every corner of the city and hear every time someone called his name reminders of the restrictions he had agreed to live his life with.

But then, at night when John sat with Evan, there was only one thing he heard, which was the echoing splash of Evan’s body hitting the water on Olam. And when he traced a finger down Evan’s limp arm and felt the coolness of his skin there was only one thing he was certain of.

He couldn’t lose Evan Lorne.

John wasn’t a fool. He knew that Evan’s life was in constant danger. He could be killed by the Wraith, rouge Genii, angry villagers and random thieves, from a bacterial infection or even in his sleep by an evil doppelganger. They both could. But whatever time they had left here on Atlantis John wanted them to spend together.

It wouldn’t be easy, John knew. There were so many things that would be difficult and tricky along the way, but Evan had said that he loved John and it was enough to make all the hardships they would face seem manageable.

That was the reason why John was so happy and energetic the day after Evan was released from the infirmary. Strangely, John didn’t get to talk to him before he was released and when he came to the infirmary and was told that Evan was no longer there Keller had admonished him not to disturb Evan because he needed a lot of rest still.

John had no problem with waiting. His team was on standby as it was. Woolsey hadn’t approved any more missions and John began suspecting that Woolsey was trying in his own subtle way to give John time to sort things out after Olam, which John was more than grateful for. But now that he had made up his mind about Evan all John had to do was wait and catch up on to his overdue paperwork.

John entered his office eating an apple he had snagged from that day’s dinner after visiting Evan’s office and retrieving the paperwork that had piled there for the last couple of days he hadn’t checked, placing it in a tray he had prepared in advanced on his desk. John’s paperwork was usually more urgent, more important and more boring, so he usually began with his own pile. It was early evening and people had better things to do than bother him, which made it the ideal time to immerse himself in that particular task.

But then John took the first form from the top of the pile and read it, his good mood ebbed away.

It was a reassignment request form.

Signed by Major Evan Lorne.

A heavy, betrayed feeling settled in John’s chest, something akin to fear and desperation. This couldn’t be happening. Evan couldn’t be asking to leave, not now. Not after everything that had happened.

Taking the sheet of paper in his hand, John ignored Keller’s orders that Evan needed rest and made his way to the nearest transporter.

John reached Evan’s door in less than a minute, and didn’t hesitate to ring the Ancient doorbell several times in a row. Evan couldn’t be that sick if he had already managed to fill the request form.

Evan opened the door with some alarm on his face, but that expression turned to weariness as soon as he saw who was on his doorstep. He was wearing comfortable-looking sweat pants and a short t-shirt and didn’t look at all like someone who was in desperate need of quiet and rest.

“Sir,” Evan acknowledged him formally, not moving from the door, and John winced. He was used to Evan calling him by his given name and hearing Evan’s formality reminded John of their harsh conversation right after Evan had kissed him in front of an entire world’s worth of watchers.

John had half a mind to demand an explanation on the spot, but the atrium Evan’s room opened to was full of people who came and went or simply sat together to talk. Instead, he pushed his way inside, but just when he was about to demand an explanation from Evan he noticed two boxes with Evan’s things in them sitting on the floor.

John turned to Evan, who looked away from him and to the far wall, near panic. Without seeing Evan’s face John couldn’t tell whether Evan was angry at the intrusion or tired still from his time in the infirmary. One thing was certain, and that was that they had the necessary privacy now that the door had closed after John.

“What’s this?” John asked angrily, pointing at the boxes on the floor. “And this?” he asked, waving the reassignment form at Evan. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded, feeling like Evan was slipping through his fingers again.

“It’s my reassignment request, sir,” Evan replied in a quiet, somber tone.

“Yes, I can see that,” John answered back sarcastically. “What’s it doing on my desk!?”

Evan looked at John, pain and desperation in his eyes. “Look, I know I screwed up. I thought that you would be reasonable about it, but I guess I was wrong. So go on, call whoever you need to call and let’s get this over with,” he said contemptuously.

John stared at him, confused. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, incredulous, and Evan lowered his eyes once again to the floor.

“Please, sir,” Evan said through clenched teeth, looking at the floor stubbornly. “You don’t have to make it harder than it already is. I’m _sorry_,” Evan swallowed so hard John could see his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You have no idea how much,” he added, almost to himself.

John looked at him, not really comprehending what was happening. “I’m not trying to make this harder!” he defended, confused.

“Then why are you here?” Evan asked stubbornly.

“Because I found your damn _reassignment request_ on my _desk_!” John was starting to lose his patience.

Evan looked up, confused now as well. He looked from John to the sheet of paper John had been waving around back and forth. “Why is that wrong?” he asked slowly, brow creasing.

“Because we’ve talked about it!” John said heatedly.

“Yes. And I’m doing exactly what I said I would,” Evan replied.

“When have we talked about you requesting reassignment?” John demanded to know, angrier and more afraid than he’d been when Evan had fallen into the frozen river. 

“Right after the last debate,” Evan reminded John, speaking slowly and in a voice laden with apprehension.

“I’m not talking about that conversation!” John said impatiently.

Evan looked even more confused. “What other conversation did we have after that one?”

John looked back at Evan, not really knowing whether to laugh or hit the wall in frustration. Evan didn’t look like he was trying to deny his words to John at the riverbank. If Evan didn’t remember their conversation, truly didn’t remember, it was only natural that he’s react like this.

But standing in front of Evan, who was confused and clearly uneasy about John’s presence, John knew that the hard part was still ahead. Now he needed to say everything that he had said to Evan while Evan was freezing to death once again.

John took a deep breath. Keller did say that one of the symptoms of stage 3 hypothermia was short term memory loss, but John never thought of that possibility because Evan was coherent while they talked. “Do you remember being pushed into the river?” he asked, talking a step forward.

Evan looked at him questioningly, but answered anyway. “Vaguely.”

“And do you remember me rescuing you?”

At that, Evan looked surprised. “No,” he said. “I didn’t even know you were there.”

John balled his hands. There was no escape from talking about everything again. “Noman and I were just arriving to the place where you were painting when Nahar pushed you in. Noman convinced me that I should-” the words got stuck in John’s throat and he wasn’t sure how he should say them. ‘Go after you’? ‘Tell you how I feel’? ‘Give us a chance’? Somehow it was easier when Evan was shaking from the cold in John’s arms, and not looking at John with such a kin expectation.

 “We pulled you out of the water,” John said, deciding to skip whatever it was that he should have said. “Noman went to get help and I stayed with you. I-” once again John wasn’t sure what to actually say that would get the message across.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he said, thinking back to all the times he was turning the matter over in his head while Evan was in the infirmary.

Evan simply looked confused. “Because I love you,” John blurted in one breath when no comment seemed forthcoming from Evan. He knew that if he screwed up now he’d lose Evan forever. It was even more difficult than seeing him falling into a frozen river.

Evan looked away, his lips pressing together tightly. “I never would have imagined you’d be such a cruel person,” he told John quietly, throwing John completely off balance.

“What!?” John asked in a near shout. “Were you even paying attention when I nearly raped you when we pretended to make love!? Did you happen to noticed that I actually kissed you back during that damn debate!?” he demanded, getting tired of this.

Instead of looking relieved, Evan’s eyes flashed angrily. “I did! And I won’t be a thing for you to play with while you’re sorting out your curiosity about gay sex,” Evan spat out. John was right, Evan really was livid.

He nearly laughed. “You’ve missed one hell of a conversation,” he told Evan, relieved himself. He’d win this in the end, just like he had won Evan back by the river. “I was done being curious when I was eighteen,” he announced, returning Evan’s look of utter shock with a smirk. “Me and a couple of high school friends got drunk and decided to explore a little,” he said smugly, enjoying Evan’s reaction a lot more than he enjoyed it the first time.

“You did?” Evan asked, disbelieving.

John nodded, waiting.

“All three of you together?” Evan asked incredulously, making a vague hand motion.

Once again, John nodded.

“Wow. That tops every wild thing I ever did with other men,” Evan said absently, apparently thinking of what John had just told him. But John was done thinking. He was done talking. Once again he felt the burn of jealousy at the thought of Evan with other men, and he wanted to settle this now.

“I don’t want to see this ever again,” John told Evan seriously, and before Evan’s amazed eyes tore the reassignment request to shreds. John placed the shreds on Evan’s table and moved forward, backing Evan against the wall.

“I-” Evan began, but John cut him off by capturing Evan’s lips with his and sneaking his tongue into Evan’s mouth. Evan made a muffled sound and tried to fight John off, but John simply took Evan’s hands and interlaced their fingers together, caressing Evan’s upper lip between both of his gently before letting go completely.

Evan was breathing harshly against him when John drew away, eyes wide and amazed. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” Evan asked shakily, understanding finally dawning.

“Do you think I’d risk everything I care about if I wasn’t?” John answered lowly, and leaned in for another kiss. This kiss was slower and longer, and Evan’s mouth was moving under his tentatively, lips pressing back and tongue shyly meeting John’s. John let go of Evan’s hands to hug him close, bringing their bodies together and causing Evan to moan softly.

John pushed his knee against Evan’s legs and Evan spread them wider, allowing John more space to lean closer while his hands came to rest on John’s hips lightly for balance.

Evan tasted just like John remembered. His mouth was warm and his taste was rich and addicting, definitely masculine and different. John explored him, explored his mouth with lips and teeth and mapped the inside of his mouth with his own eager tongue, savoring the kiss.

John made to move Evan a little backwards to lean fully against the wall, wanting to be flushed against him completely, but his boot hit one of the boxes Evan had arranged on the floor and John broke the kiss to look down.

“You’re going to put those back where they belong, right?” he asked Evan, caressing a hand down Evan’s cheek while he waited for an answer.

“Of course,” Evan panted, and John’s brow creased.

“You okay?” he was a little worried that Evan was this short of breath.

“Yeah, you just caught me by surprise,” Evan smiled shortly at John, but John wasn’t convinced.

“Keller said that you needed rest,” John argued, looking Evan up and down and mentally berating himself for not asking after his health sooner.

“She was just covering for me,” Evan explained, his hands hesitantly coming to circle John’s hips and rest in the small of his back. “How about we take this to bed?” he suggested, and John was really tempted.

But not yet.

Evan was tense against John, too hesitant and too submissive, nothing like their first kiss back on Olam. He was afraid, John realized, to do something that would make John turn away or snap back to his senses, and John hated it. He wasn’t going to turn tail and run from this, and he wanted Evan to be as passionate as he was on Olam and to kiss back with the same fierceness and passion he did before.

“No,” John said, surprising Evan. “I don’t think I’ve had enough of this quite yet,” he added and leaned closer, nuzzling against Evan’s cheek shortly before covering Evan’s mouth with his own. He nibbled on Evan’s lower lip a little and caressed Evan’s lips with his tongue but made no attempt to breach into Evan’s mouth. Instead, John brought his hands from Evan’s face to roam down Evan’s back and cup his buttocks, squeezing gently and enjoying the feel of the firm mounds that filled his palms.

Evan gasped into the kiss when John’s hands settled on his ass, his hands worming their way under John’s shirt to stroke John’s back and sides. Evan’s tongue was suddenly against John’s lips, caressing and demanding entrance, and John happily opened his mouth and sucked Evan’s tongue in, curling his own around it.

John could feel Evan’s body writhing against him, could feel Evan half hard in his pants against his groin, and loved every minute of it. Deliberately, John ground his own groin against Evan until Evan broke the kiss and buried his head in John’s shoulder, gasping.

“Liked that?” John whispered into Evan’s ear and Evan nodded jerkily, eyes clouded with desire when he raised them to look at John. The next thing John knew Evan’s tongue was trying once again to get inside his mouth and Evan’s hands were tugging him towards Evan’s narrow bed.

John fought him, wanting to control the kiss now that Evan was over his insecurities, and was dismayed that Evan pulled away and pushed John back. They were standing near Evan’s military issue bed and Evan was deliberately putting distance between them.

“Wait just one moment,” Evan said, taking an unsteady step back and stopping to balance himself against the wall. John smirked, sitting on the bed and bending down to untie his boots. He watched Evan watching him, and enjoyed slowly removing his boots and socks before standing up to undo his pants.

“Oh, god,” Evan groaned and hurried away to the bathroom, returning almost immediately with a small tube of Vaseline. It was a good thing he had brought it, because John would have hated it if they’d be forced to stop in the middle.

Evan approached John and covered John’s hand with his, stopping John from unbuckling his belt. “How far did you go with your friends?” he asked, and John was glad to see a spark of jealousy in Evan’s eyes. He leaned forward and kissed Evan shortly on his lips before answering.

“Hand jobs, blow jobs, some frottage…” John trailed off when a thought occurred in his mind. “Why don’t I simply show you?” he asked, and squeezed the hand that held his, pulling Evan forward. Once Evan was close enough John took the hem of his shirt and pushed up, Evan cooperating enough to get the shirt off and away, before inserting his finger between the waistband of Evan’s sweatpants and Evan’s skin.

Evan grabbed John’s shoulder, but it was more for support than it was to stop him, and John went on to push the pants down, leaving Evan only in his boxers.

John had to step back and enjoy the view before him, smiling when Evan presented himself to John with his hands spread wide. Evan was muscular and broad, his nipples in the light were a pale pink and his belly button dipping shallowly in. His thighs looked strong and it sent a flare of desire into John’s cock when he thought of those thighs wrapped around him. And the best part of all was the erection that was obviously starting to grow and strain in Evan’s boxers, jumping in anticipation when John looked at it.

“Come here,” John ordered, arms craving to touch Evan’s naked skin, and as soon as Evan was within reach John tugged him forward and kissed just below his ear, feeling Evan gasp and arch at the simple touch. John had a lot of catching up to do and he was going to love every minute of it.

John’s fingers stroked up Evan’s chest lightly, dragging over every rise of muscle until he reached Evan’s nipples and teased them shortly. The little nubs rose to attention immediately under John’s fluttering touch and John remembered how demanding Evan got when John tantalized his nipples the last time. John dragged his mouth down Evan’s throat and over his collarbone with some haste, wanting to get Evan to stop unbuttoning John’s shirt and lose himself in _John_.

John stopped just short of Evan’s nipple and kissed it chastely, the pink flesh rising even more to meet him while Evan groaned, and John smiled with satisfaction. He licked Evan’s nipple once before closing his mouth on it, Evan’s hands threading through his hair, but had to stop because the position was awkward and his neck started to hurt.

“On the bed,” John nodded towards the bed while he took off his already undone shirt and got out of his pants impatiently. Evan climbed on the bed and caught him in a kiss when John got there too, their tongues dueling shortly before John returned to Evan’s still wet nipple. John kissed it again and bit it gently while his hands trailed absently on Evan’s skin, and then released it to drag his stubbled chin lightly across it.

“John!” Evan’s body jerked under him and his hands flew to John’s hair, catching in it roughly, and John was washed with a wave of desire at hearing his name coming out of Evan’s lips for the first time that night. He felt bold and aroused, and was sure that Evan was as well.

John kissed Evan’s nipple one last time before kissing his way down his chest towards his boxers. He stopped when he was faced with that thin scar on Evan’s abdominal muscle, watching it from up close. It was an old one, stretched and flattened after Evan’s body developed and matured, yet it was still there.

“They beat you up because you were gay,” John stated, looking up at Evan.

Evan looked back steadily, the passion receding a little. “Yes. It wasn’t such a big deal. I just didn’t want to tell you the reason why they really did it at the time,” he replied. “Trust me, I won’t let anything like that happen again,” he added solemnly, and John smiled.

“No. I won’t either,” he said and kissed the entire length of the scar from the top downwards on his way to Evan’s cock with a smile on his face.

Evan’s boxers were soft and thin, comfortable looking even if they did hug his ass tightly. His cock was tenting the soft cotton and a wet spot was already staining the front.

John took a deep breath, aware that Evan was watching him with trepidation. It’d been over a decade since he’d done something like this, and he wanted it to be good. Tentatively, he nuzzled Evan’s clothed cock, inhaling the musky scent rising from it and feeling the hard flesh against his lips when he bent down to kiss it.

Evan didn’t make a sound when John dragged his boxers down, though his hands did fist the sheets tightly when the waistband was dragged over sensitive skin. The cock that leaped out was a good looking one, wide and full, flushed crimson and arching against Evan’s belly. It was broader than John’s but shorter, and John could feel his mouth watering at the sight. He wanted it in his mouth more than he had ever wanted a woman’s breasts between his lips.

John bent down and kissed the head of Evan’s cock experimentally, tasting bitter pre-come there and feeling the smoothness of the skin, and Evan gave a strangled moan that might have been John’s name. His hands clenched when John’s tongue licked all the way from his balls to his tip and his head thrashed on the pillow. John was feeling bolder with every panting breath Evan was drawing, and took the head of Evan’s cock into his mouth.

It filled John’s mouth and the sensation went straight to his groin until he groaned around it, and Evan nearly jumped off the bed.

“Oh God! Fuck!” Evan cried, voice hoarse and low, hand encouraging John to stay still while he rocked into John’s mouth.

John did his best to hold on and give Evan what he wanted, covering what he couldn’t take into his mouth with his hand, pushing into Evan’s slit and lapping at the swollen flesh, Evan’s hand all the while holding his shoulder tightly. John’s right hand was playing with Evan’s balls, heavy and warm, while his left was pressing against his own neglected cock, trying to keep the pace he had set with his mouth.

Evan’s cock twitched and swelled in John’s mouth and Evan was moaning and clenching his hands in the sheets and in John’s hair, and John knew that he was doing something good. Feeling even more daring, John took a deep breath and tried to take more of Evan in, but Evan’s head hit the roof of his mouth causing his gag reflex to kick in and he promptly chocked, drawing away and heaving for air.

Evan was there immediately, hand stroking through John’s hair and his other rubbing soothing circles on his back. “That was very good,” Evan told John in reassurance, “but you still have a lot to learn.” With that, Evan pushed John to lie on his back and did a quick job in removing John’s boxers, all the while his lips teasing John’s skin and nipples until John forgot his momentary shock and gave in to him.

John was fully hard when Evan managed to get him naked. Unlike him, Evan didn’t go for tentative exploration, but stroked John’s cock once with his hand, smirking, and then bent down and took half of it into his mouth. Before John could even process that, Evan rose up and slid back down, and this time took all of John in until his nose was buried in John’s pubic hair.

John groaned, the sound torn from him at the sensation of heat and light suction that engulfed him from tip to root, his hand going to Evan’s head to hold him there.

Evan started moving when John touched him, bobbing up and down on John’s cock while John watched, more turned on than he’d ever been in his life. It should have felt vulnerable, having another man suck you off, having another man hold such power over you. Instead, as John watched his own glistening cock sliding in and out of Evan’s talented mouth, he felt like the most powerful man alive.

John was feeling the building of a heady orgasm, felt it in his lower belly and in his blood, and was almost there just from the thought of coming down Evan’s throat. But Evan suddenly drew away and John groaned in frustration at the loss, the chilly air hitting his wet skin cooling his desire somewhat.

Evan rose up quickly, lips kissing John to shut him up and hands moving all over John’s chest in long, soothing strokes. John could taste himself on Evan’s tongue and devoured him hungrily, sucking him in and invading his mouth until Evan was moaning with him.

“Did you… ever… go beyond… that?” Evan panted against his shoulder when they parted for breath. John took a few moments to regulate his own breathing and used that time to pull Evan close and enjoy his wide and warm body against him.

“You mean penetrative sex? No,” John answered truthfully, because he _was_ listening to some of what Keller had explained about gay sex and he didn’t want to hurt Evan.

Evan smiled at him and moved away, motioning for John to move as well. “We’ll work on that later,” he said in a voice full of promises and desire as John scooted towards the head of the bed to make room for him.

Evan knelt on the bed and spread his legs wide, his cock jutting out proudly, and held his hand towards the little tube of Vaseline he had prepared in advance on the bedside table. John grabbed the tube and was just about to hand it over when a better way to do it came to his mind. Smirking at Evan, John opened the tube and squeezed some of the white gel onto his hand, rubbing and smearing it all over his fingers. When his hand was properly slick, he reached for Evan and held it out, waiting.

It took Evan a second or two to realize what John was doing, but when he did he reached for John’s hand and grabbed it, smiling a wicked, brilliant smile. Evan’s fingers rubbed against John’s, sliding and massaging while getting the slippery Vaseline onto his own fingers as well, all the while looking at John and smiling seductively.

Once Evan deemed his hand slippery enough, he braced himself on his left hand from behind while his right reached around his body. John couldn’t see, but he could look at Evan’s face, watch the small grimace as Evan breached himself before it gave way to pure bliss. John scooted forward and kissed Evan, sliding and nibbling at his throat while Evan’s hand continued its movement behind them and Evan was starting to pant more and more.

John watched between their bodies as Evan’s cock moved with Evan’s body, giving tiny jerks forward, and decided that he wanted to see more. Giving Evan one last kiss, John moved around Evan and settled behind him, watching in fascination.

Evan’s back was arched backwards, his left hand trembling with the effort of holding his weight while he was slowly fucking himself on two fingers of his right. John stared as the puckered entrance to Evan’s body stretched and rippled around the fingers, looked as Evan’s fingers slowly slid in and out, felt it when Evan’s body rocked onto the intrusion.

Evan withdrew his fingers, breathing hard, and threw John a lustful look over his shoulder. He was about to add a third finger when John, on impulse, grabbed his wrist and stopped him. Carefully, John folded Evan’s ring finger back and covered Evan’s hand with his, aligning his own finger on top of Evan’s middle and index.

“You ready?” John whispered into Evan’s ear, dropping a kiss on the juncture of shoulder and neck. He may not know how to do this but he was a fast learner and he knew where he could contribute. Evan’s left hand moved to brace on John’s knee as John moved flush against Evan’s back and Evan nodded wildly.

“Yes, now!” he demanded hoarsely, bucking into the waiting fingers impatiently. John guided their hands until they were at Evan’s loosened entrance and pushed in, groaning along with Evan at the sensation of tight heat that gripped them. Evan was riding on their joined hands, moving against John and with John as John threw an arm around his middle to hold them closer. He was ready, John knew, and so was John. The mere thought of Evan’s tight ass clutching his cock brought a rush of sensations to course through John’s blood, and that was without Evan’s ass rubbing him as he moved back and forward on the fingers in him. John wanted him now.

John stopped their hands from moving and stilled Evan’s body by tightening his arm around him. “I want you now,” John warned, grabbing his aching cock in his hand and bringing it to Evan’s asshole, almost thrusting in. At the last moment John realized that Evan’s face was not to him, and he moved away.

“On your back,” John ordered impatiently, wanting to see Evan when he penetrated him, wanting to memorize the awkwardness turning into bliss. Evan hurriedly complied, face clouded with lust, moving onto his back and spreading his legs wide. John stroked his cock with his slick hand to get the remaining Vaseline onto it before grabbing a hold of both of Evan’s legs for support and to hold him open, and trust inside with a single, fluid motion.

They were both thrown off balance by John’s impatience, both groaning at length. John couldn’t believe the tightness that gripped his cock, threatening to make him explode into Evan at that moment even if they were only now beginning. Evan was groaning for a different reason.

“Oh, god, John. Wait! Wait!” Evan’s voice was urgent and his hands came to hold John’s arms in a vice grip, his head throwing backwards and his eyes squeezing shut. It seemed ludicrous to John that Evan would ask him to wait. Didn’t he know what he felt like around John?

But John could also recognize, with what little of his brain that was still working, that Evan wasn’t enjoying it as he was. Evan was breathing raggedly and digging his nails into John’s skin in an effort to ride out the pain, tears escaping his tightly closed eyes, and as soon as John realized that his passion immediately cooled and he nearly withdrew from him.

“John, wait!” Evan repeated sharply, voice breaking, his hands on John’s not letting go. “Give me a moment. It’s been too long since-” but John didn’t need the end of the sentence. He stopped moving and gritted his teeth, feeling like he was about to lose his sanity with the sensation of being buried inside his lover.

John snapped back to his senses only when a hand stroked down his chest lightly. He opened his eyes to look into Evan’s dark ones, and noticed that he was no longer being held so tightly and that Evan was calmer and more relaxed, even if more sweaty.

“John, move,” Evan demanded softly when John stared at him uncertainly. At that John was once again overcome, closing his eyes to maintain control and not slam into Evan’s ass until he’d come in what was bound to be the most amazing orgasm in his life.

The decision, however, was taken away from him. Evan used his hold on John’s arms as leverage and impaled himself further down on John, bringing John’s balls to rest against his round and firm ass and causing them both to moan.

John held onto Evan’s legs and finally complied, his hips jerking back and then slamming forward without his control, his cock sending fire throughout his body from the friction with the velvet walls of Evan’s ass. He was panting and Evan was groaning and meeting him halfway, his eyes locked with the dark look in Evan’s eyes right before they fell shut.

They had spent too much time on fore-play, John thought desperately, trying to cling onto self control and make it last longer without success. They were both too close, even if Evan’s cock softened somewhat from the pain earlier. John was already slamming his hips frantically and Evan’s hand on his own cock was faltering in rhythm while the wet sound of their fucking filled the room.

John changed the angel of his thrusts, spreading Evan’s legs wider to get more friction, and Evan suddenly gave a strangled sob and jerked in place as if receiving an electric shock.

“There, right there! please!” Evan begged in a strained voice, meeting John so forcefully it threatened to dislodge them, and John knew that he had hit the jackpot. Another thrust against Evan’s prostate and Evan stiffened, his breath catching while shooting semen all over his own chest and fist.

John didn’t stand a chance after that. His own thrusts turned desperate as he watched Evan’s chest get covered in his own come, and then he was coming violently too, shooting forcefully into Evan.

John collapsed onto Evan, mind blissfully blank and limbs powerless and buttery, breathing hard and reveling in the sensation that was even better than flying.

He came to only when Evan slung an arm around him and mumbled something in his ear. John tiredly rolled off of Evan and stared at his own chest, which was now smeared in Evan’s semen, smiling like mad. It was, he mussed, probably the most erotic climax to the most erotic sex he had ever had in his life.

Evan turned and kissed him chastely, hand cupping John’s cheek. He drew air in to say something when a bad movement caused him to grimace, and John was immediately concerned.

“I’m fine,” Evan said exasperatedly. “Better than fine,” he assured John, but John wouldn’t relax until he got to see for himself. John knelt between Evan’s legs and gently probed his inner thighs before carefully spreading his ass cheeks apart. What he saw there made him smile.

Evan was fine indeed. His hole was stretched and red, but the skin wasn’t broken and there was no alarming swelling. He had John’s come slowly trickling out of him, and John was suddenly feeling very much awake and hungry for more.

“Yeah, you are,” John agreed absently, his thumb spreading his own come from Evan’s ass across his perineum while he dropped a quick kiss to Evan’s knee.

Evan gasped and swallowed before he could speak again. “So,” he began unsteadily as John’s fingers started exploring the spot behind his balls lazily. “How was your first experience of gay sex?”

John smirked at him, bending down with his mouth already open and ready. He made sure his reply would be long and very elaborate, even if nonverbal.


	13. Epilogue

John was running the last pre-flight tests on the Jumper while they waited for the gate to be dialed and for Evan and Teyla to join them.

“What if they’ve sealed off the gate?” Rodney asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“Then we won’t be able to get a lock,” John replied, knowing full well what Rodney meant but still taking pleasure in baiting him.

Rodney huffed. “I meant what if they’ve made an enclosure around the gate platform?” he clarified haughtily.

“Why would they do that?” Ronon asked from where he was sitting behind Rodney.

“Because Shedim has won?” Rodney asked as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“We don’t know that, McKay,” Ronon pointed out.

“I know you’re not great on math, but there was a fifty-fifty chance of him winning. As in, half of-”

“We’ll be fine, Rodney,” John intervened. “As long as we’re inside the Jumper nobody can hurt us and we have enough supplies here to last us several days,” he explained.

“Yes, well, I’m more concerned about what will happen once we run out of said supplies,” Rodney pressed the issue.

“Woolsey would dial in to ask after us long before that.”

“Which would lead to our untimely demise when the backwash of the event horizon exterminated us,” Rodney retorted, and John looked at him incredulously.

“McKay, we’ll be fine,” John snapped, irritated and exasperated at his friend. 

It’d been a month since they’d returned empty handed from Olam and with Evan in a critical condition, and the SGC had ordered that they try and renew negotiations and diplomatic relations, pending on the results of the election.

Nobody told Earth about the reason why Evan was pushed into the river or the fact that John and Evan went there posing as lovers. After the final debriefing with Woolsey they were all advised to pretend like it never happened for John’s and Evan’s careers’ sake. All Earth knew was that due to complications with one of the political parties on Olam someone took revenge on Evan. Earth, however, wasn’t about to walk away from all that Olam had to offer. It was like Rodney said, there was a fifty-fifty chance that they might still get those ZPMs.

They had the Deadalus on its way to the Pegasus galaxy and due to arrive in three days, so they would have backup in case things didn’t go well, but Woolsey advised and John seconded that they should go ahead of the Deadalus because of the sensitive nature of their position. The Deadalus was supposed to be sent after them only if there was no other option.

John heard the rear hatch closing and looked back to see Evan and Teyla taking their seats.

“Well, they’ve started dialing. I think we can head out,” Evan said, smiling a greeting at everyone while his hand kept straying to the collar of his uniform top to tug it upwards to cover the large bruise that John had left there the other night.

Rodney huffed once again. “Give it up, Major. He knew exactly where to leave it so that it would always be partly visible,” he snapped impatiently at Evan, who froze in his efforts to rearrange his collar. John met his eyes and smiled smugly, not at all sorry for leaving an obvious mark on his lover. Rodney was right, he had watched Evan for two days before deciding where would be the best place to leave a hickey.

They had only been in a relationship for two weeks, but John had never felt so at ease with anyone in his life. John usually balked whenever things got too close for comfort, whenever he needed to express emotions, but this time was different. Being with Evan felt different, and it was the good kind of different.

They had several lines they didn’t cross. Evan usually slept in John’s room, but he was always out of there before 08:00 AST, when the night shift and morning shift changed. There were no public displays of affection, which suited them both just fine, even though they did start hanging out together more. And most importantly, they had agreed on a chosen few to tell about their relationship.

It was a relief that John’s team were all civilians. They had taken the news about John and Evan rather well, something Evan hadn’t had the ability to disclose to his own team, and were not all that surprised given their behavior on Olam. Rodney and Radek, it turned out, had some gay physicists friends and on Seteda it was common practice for soldiers away from home to find comfort in each other’s arms.

Keller was also informed, despite John’s discomfort with it. Evan had explained that she was a good friend of his and already knew most of it. Regardless, since she was their physician she needed to know what to expect, and she was a civilian and so could always use the doctor-patient confidentiality excuse to keep their secret.

John took the Jumper through the special hatch in the roof to the gate room and lowered it towards the event horizon.

“We could be sending half of the senior staff to their deaths, not to mention Atlantis’ most brilliant mind, the military 2IC and two of the most valuable aliens the SGC has ever bonded with after Teal’c,” Rodney said morosely, causing everyone to look at him. “I’m just saying,” he added defensively.

“Gee, it’s nice to know we’re appreciated,” Evan told Rodney dryly while Teyla tried to hide an amused smile. John simply shook his head exasperatedly and pushed the control needle forward, bringing the jumper slowly towards the event horizon. He had time for a quick look at Evan before they were all dematerialized and sent through the wormhole.

As soon as the Jumper was out of the wormhole John stopped it, hand on the drone control, thinking that if Rodney was right and someone did build some sort of an enclosure around the gate then it wouldn’t do to try and break through it by flight.

To his surprise, and Rodney’s if his soft cry of ‘wow’ was any indication, the gate platform was completely bared. Moreover, someone has built a large paved road that led from it to the dig site still present further away. The workers on the dig were all gathered at the foot of the road, their clothes swaying in the gentle summer breeze and their hands shading their eyes from the sun.

Carefully John landed the Jumper on an area next to the gate that was round and large and seemed just right for a vehicle the size of a Jumper. He left the engine pods working as he looked towards the workers gathering around them, but when no gesture to come out and no threatening moves were made at them he turned to his team.

“What do you think?” John asked, suspicious. The lack of immediate threats could mean that Noman had won, or that Shedim thought that they would never return. The lack of any invitation had him confused.

Teyla’s eyes were narrowed slightly and her face betrayed her bewilderment. “It appears as though they are waiting for us to make the first move,” she speculated.

“The only problem is what move they will do after that,” Rodney muttered.

“Either way we won’t know until we go out there,” Evan pointed out, coming into the forward section from the rear compartment where he’d sat during the short ride. He stood next to John and bent down a little to get a better view of their audience.

“Fine,” John acknowledged, “but Rodney stays here. I want you to back us up the moment things start getting rough. And you,” John stood up and grabbed Evan’s hand tightly, lacing their fingers together. He knew that Evan was capable of defending himself but John would feel a whole lot better with him nearby. “You’re staying right next to me. Let’s move out,” he gave the order.

Ronon and Teyla came to stand on either side of John and Evan, who were standing close together and with their hands ready on their weapons, and John pressed the button to open the rear hatch, tense and watchful.

The weather outside was nice and warm, the spring chill gone from the air. As they came out they were greeted by a silent crowd of workers who watched them warily with every step they took. It was unnerving, and according to the way Ronon’s shoulders stiffened and his body became tense and ready, John wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“Hi,” John said into the silence. He swore he could hear the plants growing in the heavy stillness. No one returned his greeting and no one made a move towards them.

“You do remember us, right?” Evan spoke next to John, voice a little nervous. The crowd of archeologists never even budged.

“Colonel, you don’t seem like you’re making much progress,” Rodney’s voice chirped from John’s radio and John sighed.

“Yes, Rodney, I’ve noticed. Now shut up,” John replied irritably, his eyes all the while trained on the strangely still crowd.

Teyla stepped forward, inclining her head towards a vaguely familiar person. “Hafir,” she started, and John remembered that they used to talk on occasion while waiting for the transport to arrive. He was a young and easily embarrassed work manager. “Do you not recognize me?”

Hafir seemed surprised at the direct approach and nodded his head minutely. “I do, Teyla,” he replied, the first words that were spoken from the people of Olam.

Teyla turned and smiled at John with relief. “That is good to hear,” she said cordially. “We have come here to see if we have made a contribution to your world,” she added, phrasing their reason for return delicately.

But once again, no reply was made. A look of uncertainty crossed Teyla’s features. “Can you tell us who has won the elections?” she asked, but Hafir seemed to be over his embarrassment and didn’t speak again.

It reminded John too much of the formal dinner into which he had barged with the intentions of killing Nahar. And he was not going to go through that again. “I think we’ve got our answer,” John said, tense now more than ever. “And I don’t think we want to stick around waiting for them to elaborate,” he added, making the signal with his hand to retreat to the Jumper. He wasn’t willing to repeat the incident with Evan once again, not even for two ZPMs.

“Good call,” Ronon said shortly, but just as they began moving a commotion started somewhere at the back of the group of workers gathered around them. John, Evan, Teyla and Ronon raised their guns immediately, ready to defend themselves, and John could hear the weapon tray of the Jumper slide out with a low hiss behind them. Before John could yell a warning, though, someone started shouting out excitedly, words John was barely able to make out.

“The High Councilor has arrived! The High Councilor has arrived!”

“I think we’re gonna find out who’s won pretty up close and personal,” Evan muttered next to John as they watched a transport pulling into the dig’s stop. The carts were now covered with some sort of a hard board to prevent the passengers from being overcooked in the sun and it blocked the view for a moment, then the High Councilor exited the station and made his way towards them. John, Evan, Ronon and Teyla were all readying their fingers on their respective triggers, watching warily as several peace force officers joined the still unrecognized figure ascending the hill.

Until they managed to see his face clearly beyond the rocks and tents that stood between the station and them.

John felt the relief washing over him. Next to him Evan was smiling, already starting forward towards the man. “Noman,” Evan said joyfully, meeting the new High Councilor of Olam halfway and reaching out to clasp his hands. Around them the workers were now smiling and cheering, and even Hafir looked smug at the successful conspiracy.

“Major, I’m pleased to see that you’re well again,” Noman’s reply was equally warm and enthusiastic. He was now wearing a very elegant, yet very plain, cream and tan cloak, and John needed a moment before he remembered where he had seen it before. It was the same cloak that Oberoth wore when the team visited the Replicator city, the cloak of the High Councilor, of course. “Ronon, Teyla, Colonel,” Noman nodded his head at them all, stopping to smile a knowing smile at John. John knew that his sharp eyes hadn’t missed the mark on Evan’s neck.

“It is good to see you again, Noman,” Teyla told Noman honestly, pleasure creeping into her voice and eyes. “Or is it High Councilor now?”

Noman shook his head, smiling. “I never want to be addressed by my title by people I consider as friends,” he assured her, but his eyes were looking at John. “Especially friends who with a single heated speech secured my victory in the elections,” he added to John. John realized that he was asking, even if subtly, if friends was really what they were.

“No,” John agreed. He owed Noman, even if there were many things he hated about Olam. “Friends don’t do that,” he added, smiling. Noman smiled back, spreading his hand to gesture John forward. John obliged and came to stand next to Evan, who cast him a happy look, waiting.

Noman drew himself up a bit and his face wore a solemn expression all of a sudden. Nevertheless there was warmth in his eyes when he reached his hand for John, waiting for John to take it and shake it. He was greeting them in their own greeting.

“Welcome back,” Noman enveloped his and John’s still joined hands in his free one, “to Olam.”

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this the story ends. I hope you all enjoyed reading it, because I enjoyed writing it just as well. Maybe we'll be seeing each other again in the future, who knows... :)


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